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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OP 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE  LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


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THIS  Edition  de  luxe 

OF 

POEMS  OF  HOME  AND  COUNTRY 

IS    LIMITED   TO 

TWO    HUNDRED  AND    FIFTY  COPIES, 

EACH    COPY    HAVING 

THE   AUTHOR'S   SIGNATURE. 


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POEMS  ^SEP211933^ 

HOME  AND  COUNTRY. 

ALSO, 

^acretr  auti  iHiscellaueous  Vtvst, 


REV.  SAMUEL   FRANCIS   SMITH,  D.D. 


EDITED   BY 
GEN.  HENRY   B.  CARRINGTON,  LL.D. 


"  My  Country,  'tis  of  thee, 

Sweet  land  of  Liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing." 


SILVER,  BURDETT   AND   COMPANY, 
Boston  .  .  .  NEW  YORK  .  .  .  Chicago. 

1S95. 


Copyright,  1895, 
By  Silver,  Burdett  and  Company. 


?intbcrsttg  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


TO 

fflS  ©car  mUt, 

WHOSE    LOVE    HAS    BEEN    THE    INSPIRATION    OF  MY   VERSE 
AND    HER   APPROVAL   ITS    BEST    REWARD, 

THIS   BOOK 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


EDITOR'S   PREFACE. 


TT  is  an  esteemed  privilege  to  have  been  entrusted  by 
the  author  of  our  national  hymn,  "  America,"  with 
the  original  manuscript  of  his  poetical  writings,  which 
cover  a  period  of  nearly  seventy  years,  for  the  purpose 
of  presenting  them  in  durable  form,  as  a  legacy  to  his 
countrymen  and  the  Christian  world. 

As  an  ardent  student  of  comparative  philology,  the 
poet  prosecuted  its  congenial  pursuit  until  he  mastered 
fifteen  languages,  and  rarely  found  himself  at  loss  for 
words  by  which  to  convey  his  thoughts  and  wishes,  the 
wide  world  over,  without  the  aid  of  an  interpreter. 

An  intense  appreciation  of  Nature  and  country  was 
stimulated  by  a  rare  religious  spirituality ;  and  this 
imbued  his  life  and  writings  with  a  sympathy  for 
others  which  embraced  all  mankind.  A  vein  of  quiet 
humor,  hardly  less  delicate  than  that  of  his  congenial 
classmate  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  brightened  all  con- 
tributions to  social  and  literary  entertainments  ;  but  he 
never  failed  to  season  such  playful  sallies  and  apt 
allusions  with  the  charity  that  "  thinketh  no  evil,"  and 
seeks  only  how  best  to  impart  happiness  to  others. 

It  rarely  falls  to  the  lot  of  man  to  reach  the  ad- 
vanced age  of  Dr.  Smith  with  intellectual  vigor,  youth- 


vi  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

ful  sympathies,  physical  vitality,  and  an  accurate 
memory  in  full  and  healthy  exercise.  His  poems  illus- 
strate  his  life ;  and  old  and  young  alike,  of  whatever 
section,  party,  or  creed,  can  find  wholesome  stimulant 
as  well  as  a  bright  example  in  the  pleasing,  harmonious 
record. 

The  selections,  their  arrangement,  and  their  relation 
to  each  other  and  to  his  life,  have  had  his  cordial  sanc- 
tion. Among  the  nearly  three  hundred  and  fifty  odes 
and  poems  thus  grouped  or  distributed,  is  represented 
nearly  every  possible  phase  of  domestic,  social,  religious, 
and  civic  life.  Nearly  sixty  patriotic  hymns,  or  odes, 
supplement  "America;"  and  one  of  these,  "Patriot 
Sons  of  Patriot  Sires,"  or,  "A  Song  for  Young  America," 
written  on  Washington's  birthday,  1894,  shows  how 
tenderly  his  heart  sympathizes  with  the  youth  of  his 
native  land.  Another,  bearing  as  its  title,  "My  Native 
Land,"  was  composed  immediately  after  his  return  from 
a  two-years'  absence  in  India  and  other  remote  foreign 
countries. 

Sacred  Psalmody  has  been  equally  enriched  by  his 
contributions.  One  of  these,  "The  morning  light  is 
breaking,"  was  contemporaneous  in  origin  with  "My 
country,  'tis  of  thee,"  both  having  been  written  while 
he  was  a  student  at  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  in 
1832.  Another,  "The  Lone  Star,"  has  a  record  that 
will  endear  his  name  to  the  countless  millions  of  India 
so  long  as  time  endures.  As  his  classmate's  "Old 
Ironside"  rescued  the  frigate  "Constitution"  from 
demolition,  so  did  this  poem  preserve  in  more  endur- 
ing form  than  oak  or  bronze  the  mission  altar  at 
Telugu,  India,  in  the  year  1868. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  VU 

Equally  to  be  prized  are  others  which  have  blessed 
many  who  never  associated  his  name  with  the  precious 
lines.     A  few  are  noted :  — 

"  Blest  be  the  sacred  tie  that  binds ; " 

' '  Morn  of  Zion's  glory ;  " 

"  As  fades  the  light  of  closing  day  ;  " 

"  When  shall  we  meet  again,  meet  ne'er  to  sever?" 

•*  The  Prince  of  Salvation  in  triumph  is  riding; "  and, 

"  Sister,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely." 

It  has  been  a  prompting  incentive  in  this  compila- 
tion to  present  the  poet's  life  and  work  while  he  might 
be  able  to  have  some  recognition  of  his  good  service 
for  God  and  country.  It  should  incite  others  to  seek 
the  assurance  of  a  happy  old  age,  through  acceptance  of 
the  same  lofty  aims  and  unselfish  methods  which  have 
crowned  his  career,  and  that  of  his  lovely  companion, 
with  purity  and  lustre. 

Occasional  notes  indicate  the  special  conditions  un- 
der which  many  of  the  poems  were  written;  and  yet 
their  breadth  of  thought  and  sympathetic  expression 
enlarge  their  sphere  of  happy  influence.  A  costly 
jewelled  badge  from  the  veterans  of  the  Nineteenth 
Illinois  Infantry,  and  a  magnificent  banner  from  the 
Grand  Army  Corps  of  Chicago,  are  among  the  many 
gifts,  from  all  sections  and  from  many  lands,  which 
remind  him,  and  those  who  visit  his  modest  home, 
that  he  is  both  loved  and  honored  wherever  he  had 
contact  with  the  world. 

The  selection  made  from  his  miscellaneous  poems 
to  close  the  volume,  indicates  his  early  conception  of 
the  grandeur  of  our  destiny  as  a  Republic ;  and  in 
the  minsled  srave  and  lisht  the  reader  will  find  that 


viii  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

a  mature  patriotism  and  a  ripe  piety  have  uniformly 
characterized  his  life. 

The  tributes  of  his  friends,  Whittier  and  Holmes, 
who  have  so  recently  passed  from  earth,  and  of  Wash- 
burn, who,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  gives  to  the  world  his 
"Vacant  Chair  and  Other  Poems,"  are  fitly  associated 
with  this  greeting  to  the  public. 

The  following  is  the  poet  Whittier's  letter :  — 

My  dear  Fkiexd,  —  I  am  thinking  that  thy  birthday 
occurs  about  this  time,  and  I  cannot  let  the  occasion  pass 
without  a  word  of  kindly  remembrance.  I  wish  to  give  thee 
a  hearty  welcome  to  the  octogenarian  circle  which  everybody 
desires  to  reach,  but  is  in  no  haste  to  do  so. 

The  historian  George  Bancroft  has  been  tbere  for  some 
time;  and  my  dear  friend  and  thy  genial  classmate  Dr. 
Holmes  is  ready  to  join  us,  though  I  fancy  he  is  willing  to 
remain  outside  as  long  as  possible.  We  shall  all  be  proud 
of  the  acquisition  of  the  Christian  teacher  and  patriot  poet, 
whose  song  of  "  Our  Country  "  has  been  adopted  by  sixty 
millions  of  freemen.  It  has  kept  time  to  the  march  of 
Freedom.  It  bas  been  sung  around  camp-fires,  and  the  sick 
and  Avounded  have  forgotten  their  pain  in  listening  to  it. 
It  has  followed  the  American  flag  around  the  world. 

I  am  sure,  my  dear  friend,  that  we  can  both  say  that  we 
are  grateful  to  the  Divine  Providence  which  has  blessed  us 
in  so  many  ways,  and  enabled  us  to  feel,  even  at  our  age, 
that  life  is  Avell  worth  living. 

With  love  to  thy  dear  Avife,  who,  I  do  not  forget,  was  my 
schoolmate  in  the  old  Haverhill  Academy,  and  with  evei'y 
good  wish  for  thyself,  I  am  thy  old  and  affectionate  friend, 


"Oak  Knoll,"  Danvers,  Oct.  18,  15 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  ix 

The  letter  from  Dr.  Holmes  is  next  iu  order. 

Dear  Mrs.  Smitu,  —  I  enclose  a  few  lines  for  your 
husband's  coming  birthday,  which  I  hope  will  be  a  pleasant 
reminder  to  him  of  an  old  classmate  who  holds  him  in  great 
regard  and  honor.  You  will  know  how  to  present  this,  with 
the  far  more  important  oflferings  which  will  greet  him  on  the 
coming  most  interesting  anniversary. 

Very  truly  yours, 

Oliver  "Wendell  Holmes. 

To  the  Reverend  S.  F.  Smith,  D.D.,  Author  of  "  My  Country,  't  ia 
of  thee,"  on  his  eightieth  birthday,  Oct.  21,  1888. 

While  through  the  land  the  strains  resound, 

What  added  fame  can  love  impart 
To  him  who  touched  the  string  that  found 

Its  echoes  in  a  nation's  heart  ? 

No  stormy  ode,  no  fiery  march. 
His  gentle  memory  shall  prolong ; 
.    But  on  fair  Freedom's  climbing  arch, 
He  shed  the  light  of  hallowed  song. 

Full  many  a  poet's  labored  lines 

A  country's  creeping  waves  will  hide; 

The  verse  a  people's  love  enshrines 

Stands  like  the  rock  that  breasts  the  tide. 

Time  wrecks  the  proudest  piles  we  raise : 
The  towers,  the  domes,  the  temples  fall; 

Tlie  fortress  ever  crumbles  and  decays,  — 
One  breath  of  song  outlasts  them  all. 


^^-P^^  J^^oi^d^^  A^^:^ 


^j> 


X  EDITOR'S  PREFACE, 

The   third  tribute   which   belongs  to  this  honored 
group  is  the  following :  — 

To  Rev.  Samuel  F.  Smith,  D.D.,  Author  of  "America."     1808-1888. 

Dear  friend  of  well-remembered  years, 
When  youth  was  on  thy  brow  and  mine, 

Thy  smoothly  flowing  numbers  seemed 
A  well-spring  from  a  source  divine. 

With  undiminished  affluence  still, 

From  the  same  fountain  calm  and  clear, 

Plow  melodies  as  musical 

As  dropped  upon  my  boyhood's  ear. 

Aye,  holier  are  their  undertones, 

And  richer  with  the  lore  of  age ; 
The  opening  vista  down  the  vale 

Grows  broader  to  the  saint  and  sage. 

As  friends  beloved  reach,  one  by  one. 
Life's  limit,  three-score  years  and  ten. 

Thy  fingers  touch  the  old-time  chords, 
Kesponsive  with  their  sweet  Amen. 

For  never  fairer  is  the  vine 

Than  when  its  purpling  grapes  hang  low; 
And  life's  divinest  hour  is  when 

'T  is  radiant  in  its  sunset  glow. 

And  thou  dost  stay  the  fleeting  hours 

To  paint  the  blush  ere  it  depart, 
And  weave  thy  benedictions  round 

The  holiest  tendrils  of  the  heart. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  XI 

0  heavenly  gift  of  poesy ! 

And  beautiful,  when  it  doth  bless, 
As  thine  hath  done,  its  fellow-man 

In  its  embracing  tenderness. 

As  oft  a  harp  will  murmur  on 

When  the  sweet  song  we  sang  is  o'er. 

And  charm  us  with  its  memories  when 
The  hand  that  swept  it  is  no  more,  — 

So  will  remembrance  of  thy  life. 

Its  four- score  years  of  song  and  cheer. 

Like  music,  linger  when  we  miss 

Thy  presence  from  the  pathways  here. 

A  letter  from  Eev.  W.  E.  Towson,  dated  Osaka, 
Japan,  March  13,  1895,  was  received  April  8,  just  as 
these  pages  were  going  to  press.  He  wrote  that  "  the 
native  Christians  of  Japan  have  adopted  the  music  of 
'  America,'  to  be  sung  with  words  equivalent  to  '  God 
save  our  Native  Land,'  on  all  national  days ; "  and  that 
"  selections  from  '  Beacon  Lights  of  Patriotism '  have 
been  translated  and  distributed,  in  tract  form,  to  the 
Japanese  army."  He  also  desired  that  Dr.  Smith  be 
advised  of  the  following :  —  "  On  a  recent  visit  of  two 
American  lady  missionaries  to  one  of  our  men-of-war, 
after  eight  years  of  isolation  in  the  interior  of  India 
and  Japan,  they  heard  the  band  play  '  America.'  At 
the  welcome  sound  of  our  national  hymn,  one  wept 
for  joy,  the  other  fainted." 

The  author's  immediate  response  is  given  on  the 
following  page. 


xii  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


ECHOES   OF  "AMERICA." 

"  What  are  these  notes  of  melody  that  float  around  me  here,  — 
The  tones  of  love  that  in  my  youth  broke  on  my  ravished  ear, 
The  swelling  notes  from  infant  lips,  the  anthem  of  the  free, 
When  childish  voices  trilled  the  song,  '  My  country,  't  is  of 
thee  '  1 

"  My  fate  has  led  me  far  from  home ;  new  scenes  salute  my 

eyes; 
New  climes  and  seasons  greet  me  here,  new  flowers,  fruits, 

and  skies, — 
But  still  my  heart,  untravelled,  turns,  dear  native  land  to 

thee ; 
I  sing  again  the  old  refrain,  '  Sweet  land  of  liberty  '  !  " 

She  spoke  in  sweet  and  gentle  tones,  her  cheeks  with  tears 

were  wet; 
"  Dear  native  land,  its  light,  its  love,  how  can  I  e'er  forget  ?  " 
She  heard  the  strain;   her  bounding  heart  longed  for  the 

brave  and  free ; 
She  breathed  in  ecstasy  of  love,  "  Sweet  land  of  Liberty  !  " 

Another  pilgrim,   far  from  home,  heard  the  same  echoing 

strain ; 
Her  throbbing  heart  grew  wild  Avith  joy  to  greet  the  thrill 

again. 
She  fainted  as  the  glorious  sound  along  the  gamut  ran, 
"  Is  this  the  land  of  liberty  1  "     "  Alas,  't  is  but  Japan  !  " 

But  Ereedom  stooped  to  wipe  the  tears,  to  kiss  the  dead  to 
life,  — 

Freedom  that  speaks  the  words  of  peace,  healer  of  human 
strife. 

Visions  of  love  came  o'er  the  soul ;  in  faith,  they  rose  to  see 

The  tribes  of  all  the  peopled  earth  made,  through  the  Gos- 
pel, free. 

Newton  Centke,  Mass.,  April  9,  1895. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  THE  AUTHOR  OF 
"  AJyiERICA." 


The  following  letter  from  Dr.  Smith  illustrates 
many  elements  which  have  made  his  life  so  greatly 
a  blessing  to  others :  — 

In  accordance  with  your  request  for  a  familiar  outline 
of  my  life,  noting  its  chief  events  and  the  trend  of  my 
poetical  writings,  I  send  the  enclosed,  as  the  experience 
of  one  who  courted  the  Muse  partly  for  personal  satis- 
faction, but  chiefly  from  an  earnest  desire  to  promote 
patriotic  sentiment  and  Christian  living  as  he  had  oppor. 
tunity.  It  has  been  a  source  of  enjoyment,  and,  I  hope, 
has  been  a  comfort  to  others. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

S.  F.  Smith. 

SKETCH. 

I  count  it  to  have  been  a  happy  lot,  and,  possibly, 
an  inspiration  to  my  choice  of  a  profession,  that  I  was 
born  under  the  sound  of  the  Old  North  Church  chimes, 
in  Boston.  I  understand,  from  veritable  family  rec- 
ords, that  the  modest  event  occurred  on  the  21st  day 
of  October,  1808.  1  confess  to  a  little  touch  of  satis- 
faction that  I  am  permitted,  in  my  social  retirement, 
to  count  "  Discovery  Day,"  as  we  now  style  the  arri- 


xiv  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

val  of  Columbus  in  America,  as  my  own  birthday ; 
but  I  have  never  claimed  that  the  coincidence  was 
worthy  of  note,  outside  of  the  immediate  Smith  house- 
hold. 

Three  years  at  the  Eliot  School,  Boston,  were  fol- 
lowed by  preparation  for  college  at  the  Boston  Latin 
School,  from  which  I  graduated  to  enter  Harvard  Uni- 
versity. It  certainly  was  a  grateful  experience  of  that 
preparatory  training,  that,  in  1825,  I  was  permitted  to 
call  the  "  Franklin  Medal "  my  own,  as  well  as  a  gold 
"  Prize  Medal "  for  an  English  poem. 

My  Harvard  Class,  1829,  brought  me  into  intimacy 
with  that  congenial  and  beloved  classmate,  Dr.  Holmes, 
and  the  friendship  never  abated ;  nor,  in  the  progress 
of  seventy  years  lacking  one,  was  our  tender  fellow- 
ship ever  lessened.  Widely  separated  in  our  special 
lines  of  study,  we  were  of  "  the  boys  "  when  together  ; 
and  his  playful  reference  to  my  being  "  disguised  under 
the  universal  name  of  Smith,"  never  hurt  my  sensibili- 
ties, but  was  one  of  the  merry  things  of  which  we 
made  sport  together. 

College  days  too  quickly  sped.  I  then  pursued  a 
three  years'  course  at  Andover  Theological  Seminary, 
from  which  I  graduated  September,  1832.  I  had  med- 
dled with  verses  from  childhood,  and,  before  leaving  An- 
dover, wrote  the  hymn,  "  My  Country,  't  is  of  thee," 
"  The  Morning  Light  is  breaking,"  and  many  others. 

I  had  "  on  the  brain,"  a  penchant  for  comparative 
philology;  and,  in  my  theological  course,  added  four 
languages  to  my  repertoire,  besides  accomplishing  the 
pleasing  task  of  reading  every  word  of  Mr.  Marshman's 
Chinese  grammar,  —  a  vast  quarto,  nearly  as  large  as  a 
family  Bible. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  TUE  AUTHOR.  xv 

After  the  close  of  my  course  at  Andover,  I  spent  a 
year  in  editorial  labor  in  Boston,  Then  I  became  vil- 
lage pastor  in  Waterville,  Maine  ;  was  ordained  Feb- 
ruary 12,  1834,  and  at  the  same  time  became  Professor 
of  Modern  Languages  in  Waterville  College,  afterwards 
known  as  Colby  University.  During  the  course  of 
eight  years,  on  account  of  a  vacancy  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Latin  and  Greek  Languages  (for  one  whole 
year)  all  the  Greek  taught  in  the  college  was  added 
to  my  department  of  instruction. 

On  the  16th  of  September,  1834,  I  was  married  to 
Miss  Mary  White  Smith,  of  Haverhill,  Massachusetts, 
grand-daughter  of  Dr.  Hezekiah  Smith,  chaplain  for  six 
years  in  the  Eevolutionary  Army,  and  an  intimate 
friend  of  Washington,  also  one  of  the  founders  of 
Brown  University,  in  the  State  of  Rhode  Island. 

My  double  service  in  Waterville  continued  until  Janu- 
ary, 1842,  when  I  became  editor  of  the  Christian  Eeview 
(Quarterly),  and  took  up  my  life  residence  at  Newton 
Centre,  Massachusetts.  Becoming  pastor  of  the  First 
Baptist  Church,  I  still  retained  my  editorial  chair  till 
1848  (seven  years),  and  filled  the  pastorate  for  twelve 
years  and  a  half.  Meanwhile  I  fitted  my  children  for 
college,  —  the  two  elder,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  for  the 
sophomore  grade  of  college  study.  After  resigning 
the  pastorate,  I  served  as  the  editorial  secretary  of 
the  Missionary  Union,  fifteen  years,  still  preaching 
almost  constantly  as  a  stated  supply. 

In  1875,  accompanied  by  my  wife,  I  spent  a  year  in 
Europe. 

In  1880,  we  undertook  a  second  journey,  which  in- 
cluded Southern  Asia  in  its  itinerary,  being  absent 
from  the  United  States  more  than  two  years.     This 


XVi  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

trip  included  England,  Scotland,  Sweden,  Norway, 
Denmark,  Germany,  Switzerland,  France,  Spain,  Italy, 
Austria,  Turkey,  Greece,  India,  Ceylon,  and  Burmah. 
We  visited  the  missions  of  various  Church  Societies,  — 
English,  Scotch,  French,  German,  and  American,  so 
far  as  time  and  circumstances  would  permit.  Vari- 
ous correspondence  had  suggested  the  points  in  the 
field-service  of  the  Master  where  labor  was  needed.  I 
endeavored  to  learn  as  exactly  as  possible  the  actuali- 
ties of  the  mission-work,  its  methods,  its  personelle,  its 
needs,  its  trials,  and  its  successes. 

Literary  work  has  been  the  natural  result  of  my 
tastes  and  my  studies.  Articles  for  reviews,  magazines, 
and  newspapers  have  been  almost  without  number. 
Among  books,  may  be  mentioned  the  "  Life  of  Eev. 
Joseph  Grafton  ; "  "  Lyric  Gems  "  (publisher's  title), 
"  Rock  of  Ages,"  the  two  latter  containing  many  of 
my  own  composition ;  "  The  Psalmist,"  in  connection 
with  Baron  Stow,  the  current  Hymn  Book  of  the  Bap- 
tist Churches  throughout  the  United  States  for  thirty 
years,  from  1843  ;  "  Missionary  Sketches,"  and  "  Ram- 
bles in  Mission  Fields,"  These  were  followed  by  "  The 
History  of  Newton,"  Massachusetts,  950  pp.  octavo ; 
several  books  edited ;  and  various  translations  for  the 
Encyclopaedia  Americana,  from  the  "  German  Conversa- 
tions Lexicon,"  amounting  to  fully  one  thousand  printed 
pages.  Not  far  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  my 
hymns  have,  in  various  ways,  been  contributed  to  our 
Psalmody. 

A  strong  poetical  bias  took  hold  of  me  when  I  was 
a  boy  of  eight  years.  An  "  Elegy  on  a  Cat,"  then 
written,  disappeared  long  since,  as  well  as  the  cat. 
The  first  poem  published,  was  four  years  later ;  but  if 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  TUE  AUTHOR.  XV li 

you  do  not  find  it  among  the  old  papers,  I  cannot  sup- 
ply it.  I  have  never  bidden  farewell  to  the  lyre,  sim- 
ply because  it  was  a  part  of  myself. 

The  hymn,  "  America,"  was  the  fruit  of  examining  a 
number  of  music  books  and  songs  for  German  public 
schools,  placed  in  my  hands  by  Lowell  Mason,  Esq. 
Falling  in  with  the  tune  in  one  of  them,  now  called 
"  America,"  and  being  pleased  with  its  simple  and  easy 
movement,  I  glanced  at  the  German  words,  and,  see- 
ing that  they  were  patriotic,  instantly  felt  the  impulse 
to  write  a  patriotic  hymn  of  my  own,  to  the  same  tune. 
Seizing  a  scrap  of  waste  paper,  I  put  upon  it,  within  half 
an  hour,  the  verses  substantially  as  they  stand  to-day. 
I  did  not  propose  to  write  a  national  hymn.  I  did  not 
know  that  I  had  done  so.  The  whole  matter  passed 
out  of  my  mind.  A  few  weeks  afterwards  I  sent  to 
Mr.  Mason  some  translations  and  other  poems  ;  this 
must  have  chanced  to  be  among  them.  This  occurred 
in  February,  1832.  To  my  surprise,  I  found  later  that 
he  had  incorporated  it  into  a  programme  for  the  celebra- 
tion of  July  4,  1832,  in  Park  St.  Church,  Boston.  I 
have  smce  heard  it  sung  in  many  languages,  more  than 
half-way  round  the  world,  the  latest  translation  of  it 
which  I  have  seen  being  into  the  Hebrew.  When  it 
was  composed,  I  was  profoundly  impressed  with  the 
necessary  relation  between  love  of  God  and  love  of 
country ;  and  I  rejoice  if  the  expression  of  my  own 
sentiments  and  convictions  still  finds  an  answering 
chord  in  the  hearts  of  my  countrymen. 

I  pray  that  the  spirit  of  the  simple  verses  may  be 
the  spirit  of  our  people  evermore. 


CONTENTS. 


Paob 

Preface iii 

AUTOBIOGKAPHY  OF  Dr.  SmITII xi 


l^art  I.  — HOME. 

FAMILY  PICTURES. 

Domestic  Beginnings. 

Childhood  Memories 1 

To  Little  Mary  White 2 

Cradle  Song.     (From  the  German.) 3 

Sallie 4 

To  my  Blessed  Wife 5 

Our  Frank 6 

To  Little  Ann 7 

Daniel  Appleton  White 7 

Anniversaries. 

Mary,  on  her  Eighteenth  Birthday 9 

Mary,  on  her  Wedding  Day 10 

Mary,  on  her  Twenty-fifth  Marriage  Anniversary    ....  11 

Sallie,  on  her  Eighteenth  Birthday 12 

Frank,  on  his  Twenty-first  Birthday 1-3 

Ewing,  at  Twenty -one 14 

To  my  Wife,  at  Fifty 1.5 

Our  Golden  Wedding ■ 17 

Carrie,  on  her  Fiftieth  Birthday 19 

My  Wife,  to  a  Friend  guessing  her  Age 20 

Our  Fifty-ninth  Marriage  Anniversary .  22 

Our  Sixtieth  Wedding  Anniversary 22 

Frank's  Wife,  at  Fifty 23 


XX  COXTEXTS. 

To  my  TVife,  at  Seventy 25 

To  my  Wife,  ou  her  Seventy-fifth  Birthday 26 

To  my  Wife,  on  her  Eightieth  Birthday 2S 

To  my  AVife,  at  Eighty-one 30 

To  my  Wife,  on  her  Eighty-second  Birthday 32 

Tender  Paetings. 

Elizabeth,  the  Infant  Angel 33 

The  Jewel  and  its  Setting 34 

In  IMemory  of  INIary  White  Smith 36 

Two  Gardens,  The  Heavenly  and  the  Earthly 37 

Reunions. 

Sallies  Home 39 

At  the  Old  Hearthstone  again 40 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES. 
Kind  Greetings. 

Friendship 43 

To  a  Young  Friend  at  Twenty-one 44 

To  a  Young  Maiden 45 

Rev.  James  Freeman  Clarke,  at  Seventy 46 

Deacon  George  W.  Chipman,  at  Seventy 47 

Lyman  Jewett,  D.  D.,  on  his  Seventy-fifth  Birthday     ...  50 

Deacon  J.  W.  Converse,  on  his  Eightieth  Birthday  ....  51 

A  Golden  Wedding  Song      .     .     • 53 

A  Golden  Wedding 54 

Mrs.  J.  W.  Parker,  on  her  Eighty-third  Birthday     ....  56 

George  C.  Lorimer,  D.  D 58 

Rev.  Adoniram  Judson  Gordon 59 

In  Memory  and  Condolence. 

William  Hague,  D.  D 61 

Gardner  Colby 63 

Rev.  Isaac  Backus 65 

A  Loving  Bequest 66 

Mary  Pond 67 

"Blind  Anna" 69 

Blossoming  on  the  Other  Side 70 

To  a  Sorrowing  Mother 71 

Agatha  E.  Claflin 72 

Harriet  J.  Wardwell     .     .     • 74 

Epitaphs 75 

In  Memory  of  a  Young  Maiden 76 


CONTENTS.       '  xxi 
part  II. —COUNTRY. 

America 77 

SCHOOLS    AND    SCHOLARS. 
Sentimevtal. 

The  Seal  once  laid  on  Pliant  Wax 79 

Nothing  without  Effort 79 

Where  are  the  Boys  of  Earlier  Years  ? 81 

The  Lady  and  the  Poet 82 

Preserved  Thoughts.     (Dedication  of  a  Library.)     ....  83 

The  Gentle  Muse  of  To-day 84 

Anniversaries  and  Dedications. 

Hymn  for  a  School  Anniversary 86 

Laying  the  Corner-Stone  at  Wellesley  College 87 

Laying  the  Corner-Stone  of  Worcester  Academy    ....  88 

An  Unfinished  School  Building 89 

Hymn  for  Dedication  of  a  School-house 90 

Fair  Seat  of  Learning !  who  shall  tell 91 

Fair  Worcester 92 

Fair  Suffield.    Thy  Children  return  to  thy  Hall 93 

Reunions. 

Alumni  of  Newton  Theological  Seminary,  1885 94 

Hymn  for  Newton  Theological  Institute 95 

A  Song  of  "  Lang  Syne."    For  the  Harvard  Class  of  1829  .  96 

Not  yet  the  Frost  of  Age.     (Harvard  Class  of '29.)      ...  97 

Hid  the  Tempest  and  the  Strife.     (Harvard  Class  of  '29.)     .  99 

Tributes. 

Mr.  Seth  Davis,  the  School-master,  on  Ms  One  Hundredth 

Birthday 101 

The  Departed  Teacher 103 

Requiem 104 

Nathaniel  Parker  Willis 106 

Edward  Everett 107 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 109 

CmC  INTERESTS  AND    OCCASIONS. 

The  World's  Need Ill 

True  Greatness Ill 

Women's  Rights 116 

Dedication  of  Chamber  of  Commerce,  Boston 119 

For  the  Dinner  of  tho  First  City  Government  of  Newton      .  120 

Dedication  of  Home  for  Waif  Boys  at  Dedham,  Mass.      .     .  123 

The  Consecration  of  a  Cemetery 124 

Change  and  Work 125 


xxii  CONTENTS. 


PATRIOTIC  INCENTIVES  AND  EXAMPLES. 

The  Fathers  and  their  Struggles. 

A  Tribute  to  Columbus 129 

America,  the  Western  Flower 130 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers 132 

Tea-drinking.     (An  American  Ballad.) 133 

Paul  Revere's  Ride 137 

Patriot's  Day,  April  19,  1775 138 

Independence  Day,  July  4,  1776 140 

The  Children's  Independence  Day 141 

The  Fourth  of  July  remembered 143 

A  Hymn  for  the  Fourth  of  July 144 

The  Fathers  remembered 145 

Ode  in  Memory  of  Franklin 146 

The  Birthday  of  Washington 147 

The  Sons  and  their  Struggles. 

Patriot  Sons  of  Patriot  Sires 149 

The  Cincinnatse 151 

The  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution 152 

Fling  out  the  Banner    .     .     .     .     " 154 

Wave  the  Flag  on  high 156 

The  Pine  and  the  Palm 157 

The  Morning  cometh 158 

Memorial  Honors 160 

Eve  of  Decoration  Day 161 

Decoration  Day 162 

Precious  Lives 163 

Cherished  Names 164 

Our  Fallen  Comrades 164 

Burial  of  General  Grant 167 

The  Student  Soldiers.     (Harvard's  Dead.) 168 

After  the  Soldier's  Funeral 169 

"  Sleep,  Comrades,  sleep  !  " 170 

"  Living  still " 171 

On  the  Erection  of  a  Soldier's  Monument 172 

Memorial  Hymn 173 

The  Illinois  Nineteenth  Regiment  and  Captain  Bremner  .     .  1 74 

The  Twenty-fifth  G.  A.  R.  Encampment,  1893 176 

The  Veterans 178 

Abraham  Lincoln 180 

A  Century  Hymn,  1789-1889 183 

Memorial  Day,  1894 185 

My  Native  Land '    .    .  186 


CONTENTS.  xxm 


|3art  III.  — SACKED   AND   RELIGIOUS. 

Ikcentives  to  Early  Piety. 

Of  Such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 189 

Moruiiig  Prayer 190 

Thiugs  Small  and  Great 191 

The  Dew-drop  and  the  Soul 192 

Religion 193 

Remember  thy  Creator 194 

Thanksgiving 194 

Martha  and  Mary 195 

Perfect  in  Christ 196 

Fleeting  Blessings 197 

Early  Consecration 198 

Our  Beloved  Teachers 198 

The  Word  of  God 199 

The  Closing  Week 200 

Saturday  Evening 201 

Sabbath  Morning 202 

The  Lord's  Day 203 

Anniversary  Hymn 204 

A  Sabl)ath-School  Hymn 205 

Sabbath  Evening 206 

God  be  our  Staff  and  Friend 207 

The  Young  for  Christ 208 

Onward  !  Christian  Warriors 209 

The  Gospel  Ministry. 

Harvest-Time 211 

Sewing  and  Reaping 212 

Welcome  to  a  Pastor 213 

A  Blessing  sought  upon  a  Pastor 214 

The  Divine  Presence  invoked 215 

Benefits  of  the  Ministry 216 

Great  is  the  Work,  but  Thine  the  Power 217 

The  Chosen  of  God 217 

The  Sickle  and  the  Sheaf 218 

Christ,  the  Corner-Stone 220 

The  Reapers 221 

The  Aged  Pastor 222 

Stewardship 224 

God  of  the  Starry  Worlds  above 225 

Come !  O  Divine  Shekinah,  come  ! 226 

Dedication  of  Caryville  Chapel 227 

God  of  the  Mountains  and  the  Sea 228 

The  Fathers,  where  were  they  ? 229 

Sweepon,0  Car  of  Light! 230 

Farewell  to  the  Old  Church 231 


XXIV  CONTENTS. 

The  Living  Church. 

The  Rock  of  Ages 235 

God,  all  in  all 236 

Divine  Providence 236 

The  Kedeemer's  Tears 237 

The  Last  Supper 239 

Gethsemane 240 

The  Lord  is  risen 241 

The  Living  Church  sweeps  on •     .     .  242 

A  Rich  Bequest 243 

Christian  Experience. 

The  Present  and  the  Eternal 245 

Despondency 246 

Consecration 248 

Importunity  in  Prayer 249 

Far  from  Earth 250 

Passing  on,  passing  up 251 

Thy  Will,  O  Lord,  be  done 252 

Ye  are  not  your  own 253 

All  Things  are  yours 254 

A  Present  Help  in  Trouble 255 

There 's  Rest  for  thee 256 

AU  one  in  Christ 257 

Following  Christ 258 

Christian  Fellowship 259 

Jesus  is  passing  by 260 

A  Foretaste  of  Heaven 261 

Abounding  Mercy 261 

Up !  ye  Saints  ! 262 

Salvation 264 

The  Trusting  Soul 265 

Blest  be  the  Holy  Bands 266 

Blest  be  the  Bonds  of  Christian  Love 267 

A  Centenary  Hymn 268 

Missionary  Hymns  and  Odes. 

Prayer  for  the  Heathen 269 

Heralds  of  Salvation 270^ 

The  Missionary  Angel 271 

God  be  with  thee 272 

Christ's  Disciples  divide  the  Field 273 

The  Missionary's  Farewell 274 

Light  o'er  the  Hills 275 

Thy  Kingdom  come,  Immortal  King ! 276 

Prince  of  Peace,  oh,  come  ! 277 

To  a  Departing  Missionary 278 

Welcome  to  a  Returning  Missionary 279 

The  King  of  Glory 280 


CONTENTS.  XXV 

The  Lone  Star 281 

Faith's  Triumph 282 

The  Word  of  God  glorified 284 

The  Living  Bread 285 

Jehovah  reigns 286 

"  Arouse  ye,  O  8crvants  of  God !  " 288 

From  Eaktii  to  Heaven. 

Come  unto  me 289 

O  Lord,  remember  me  ! 290 

The  All-sufficient  Refuge 291 

The  Everlasting  Shelter 292 

Life's  Rapid  River 294 

As  Summer  Clouds 295 

How  blest  arc  they,  in  Christ,  who  die ! 296 

To  die  is  gain 297 

The  Dying  Christian 298 

The  Grave 299 

Where  is  thy  Victory,  0  Grave  ! 300 

Heaven ■ 300 

Ee-union  in  Heaven 301 

A  Redeemed  World. 

Your  Thousand  Voices  raise 303 

Morn  of  Zion's  Glory 304 

The  Great  Salvation 305 

The  Success  of  the  Gospel  assared 306 

Jesus  ever  reigns 308 

The  Lord  is  come 309 

Triumphs  of  the  Gospel 311 

Speed  on  Thy  Victory,  Mighty  King ! 312 

The  Prince  of  Salvation  in  Triumph  is  riding 313 

America's  Christian  Centennial 314 

The  Doxology  of  Redemption 315 


^art  IV.  —  MISCELLANEOUS   HYMNS   AND 
ODES. 

INTERVIEWS   WITH  NATURE. 

The  Flag  in  Nature 317 

Flowers 318 

Flowers  in  Winter 319 

A  Song  of  Spring 320 

The  Little  Cricket 321 

Wild  Strawberries 322 

The  Canary  at  Sea 323 

Tree-planting,  or  Arbor  Day      . 324 

The  Eloquence  of  Nature 326 


XXVI  CONTENTS. 


EUSTIC  SCENES.     {From  the  German) 

My  Humble  Home 327 

Pleasures  of  Nature 327 

The  Pleasures  of  Innocence 328 

My  Delight 329 

On  Waking  in  the  Morning 330 

The  Rain 330 

Prayer  before  School 331 

The  Spring  is  come 331 

The  Garden 332 

Spring  Flowers 333 

The  Three  Flowers 334 

A  Song  in  the  Woods 335 

The  Huntsman's  Song 336 

Invitation  to  the  Country 337 

The  Little  Weaver 337 

The  Little  Star 338 

Our  Pleasant  Village 339 

Salutation  to  the  Village 340 

Farewell  to  the  Village 341 

Hail,  Bethlehem's  Star! 342 

Native  Land,  so  lovely 343 

Summer  Evening 344 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS. 

Freedom  advances 345 

Woman 346 

Woman,  "  A  Side-issue  " 348 

The  Good  and  Great  Man 353 

Dangerous  Precocity 354 

"  A  Little  Uppish  " 355 

These  Modern  Times 356 

A  Merry  Hour 357 

Eloquence 361 

Soul-Liberty,  the  Watchword  of  the  World 3G3 

The  Unfettered  Conscience 366 

Be  Joyful 368 

The  Christmas  Tree 369 

Sibylline  Leaves 370 

Dorcas 373 

Our  Years  roll  on 374 


Index  of  First  Lines 377 


Part  I. 
POEMS   OF  HOME. 


pan  L  — HOME. 

FAMILY    PICTURES. 


I.     DOMESTIC    BEGINNINGS. 


CHILDHOOD   MEMORIES. 

On,  no,  they  shall  not  be  forgot, 
Those  days  of  simple  truth, — 
The  harmless  sports  and  noisy  joys 
Of  boyhood  and  of  youth  ; 

Chorus. 
But  when  upon  those  early  scenes 

We  suffer  thought  to  dwell, 
"We  '11  drink  to  their  dear  memory  from 

The  pure,  the  pure  deep  well. 

We  wander  o'er  each  scene  anew. 
We  tread  each  hallowed  spot 

Where  time  in  giddy  gladness  flew,  — 
Oh,  can  they  be  forgot ! 
Chorus. 

Eoll  back,  roll  back  tlie  tide  of  cares, 
Roll  back  the  swelling  sea  ; 

An  hour  we  '11  give  to  think  upon 
Our  days  of  youthful  glee ; 

Chorus. 
1 


POEMS  OF  HOME. 

But  all !  those  cheerful  scenes  are  gone, 

Their  joys  fled  fast  away ; 
The  friends  of  our  bright  boyhood's  morn, 

Oh,  tell  me,  where  are  they  ! 

Chorus. 

Bereaved,  but  bowing  to  our  lot. 

Our  onward  path  we  tread. 
As  mournfully  we  gather  up 

The  mantles  of  the  dead. 

Chorus. 

The  places  where  our  youth  was  spent ; 

The  friends  who  now  are  not ; 
The  scenes  we  loved,  those  joyous  hours,  - 

They  shall  not  be  forgot. 
Chorus. 


TO   LITTLE   MAEY   WHITE. 

"OUR  FIRST-BORN." 

THOU  precious  pledge  of  love, 
Of  ties  that  bind  two  kindred  hearts  in  one. 
Dear  infant  Mary ;  't  is  with  joy  we  hail 
Thy  coming ;  and  with  joy  we  both  shall  strive 
To  make  thee  happy,  useful,  thro'  the  scenes 
Of  mortal  life.     Heaven  watch  o'er  thee,  my  child, 
Thro'  all  thy  infant  slumbers  ;  guard  thee  well 
In  youth's  most  tempting  perils  ;  spare  thy  life, 
To  us  as  precious  as  our  own,  and  give, 
When  life  shall  end,  a  crown  of  joy. 


FAMILY  PICTURES. 

But  know, 
My  child,  this  is  a  world  of  grief  and  change ; 
And  't  is  a  high  behest,  beyond  the  lot 
Of  changeful  earthliness  and  worldly  pride, 
Which  thou  art  sent  to  finish.     When  the  day 
That  brings  the  power  of  knowing  right  and  wrong 
Shall  be  to  thee,  whate'er  thou  art,  and  where. 
Know  this,  and  'grave  it  on  thy  memory. 
Thy  father  and  thy  mother,  fearing  God, 
Did,  on  this  day  which  gave  thee  life  and  light. 
To  Him  that  life  and  light  devote.     Know,  then. 
Thou  must  not  think  thyself  thine  own  on  earth, 
For  thou  art  wholly  consecrate  to  God, 
Born  for  His  service,  given  for  His  praise. 
So  live  that  thou  mayst  honor  Him,  and  then 
Sit  down  in  heaven  with  all  the  glorified. 

Watekville,  Aug.  5,  1835. 


CRADLE   SONG. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

SLEEP,  baby,  sleep ! 
Our  cottage  vale  is  deep ; 
The  little  lamb  is  on  the  green. 
His  snowy  fleece  is  soft  and  clean, 
Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 
I  would  not,  would  not  weep ; 
The  little  lamb  —  he  never  cries  — 
How  bright  and  happy  are  his  eyes, 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 


POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 
Thy  rest  shall  angels  keep ; 
The  lamb  before  the  doors  shall  feed, 
And  suffer  neither  want  nor  need. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 
Near  where  the  woodbines  creep ; 
Be  like  the  lamb  so  meek  and  mild, 
A  sweet  and  kind  and  gentle  child. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 


SALLIE. 

THUS  comes  another  ;  may  she  stand 
Among  the  saints  in  light. 
Blest  Saviour,  at  thy  own  right  hand, 
And  walk  with  thee  in  white. 

And  should  her  pilgrimage  be  long, 

And  sharp  affliction's  rod. 
Or  short  her  pathway  to  the  skies. 

Oh,  may  it  end  in  God ! 

OCTOBEE  18,  1838. 


FAMILY  PICTURES. 


TO   MY  BLESSED  WIFE. 

ON  THE  BIRTH  OF  OUR   "FIRST-BORN." 

»'T^  WAS  an  eventful  day  that  made  thee  feel 

1      The  breath  of  thy  tirst-boru.    There  are  on  earth 
A  thousand  pleasant  sounds,  but  none  like  that 
In  which  the  little  babe,  by  slender  cries, 
Its  earliest  wants,  else  all  unknown,  reveals. 
There  is  no  sight  to  the  young  mother's  eye 
So  full  of  sweet  attractiveness,  in  all  the  scenes, 
Tho'  grand  or  beautiful  in  every  part. 
Of  the  Creator's  works,  as  in  the  form 
Of  infant  feebleness,  and  the  first  ray 
In  which  its  opening  eye,  unknowingly. 
Looks  up. 

Well,  't  is  a  holy  gift.     To  us 
The  God  we  worship  hath  entrusted  now 
One  of  His  jewels,  to  be  trained  on  earth 
For  heaven's  Ijright  treasure-house.    Oh,  may  He  spare 
The  life  so  sweet  and  young,  and  ours,  so  full 
Of  weal  or  woe  to  her  condition.     And  may  He, 
Who  heard  the  prayer  of  Hannah,  list  to  ours, 
And  take  this  dedicated  child,  to  serve 
And  glorify  Him  here  —  then  shine  above, 
A  star  of  matchless  radiance,  in  the  crown 
Of  our  Kedeemer. 

AcGnsT  6, 1835. 


POEMS  OF  HOME. 


OUE  FEANK. 

AT  first,  a  sickly  babe,  with  angel  face 
And  gentle  heart,  and  meek,  fond,  chnging  ways, 
O'er  whom  the  tearful  eye  and  careful  hand 
Watched  long  and  faithful,  half  in  hope,  and  half 
Too  near  despair,  dreaming  that  thy  young  life. 
Like  flickering  taper,  would  ere  long  go  out, 
And  early  bhght  assail  thy  slight  weak  frame. 
Now  thou  art  grown  a  strong  and  noble  boy ; 
Health  flushes  thy  young  cheek,  and  from  thy  mouth 
Pour  shouts  of  childish  joy.     What  hopes  in  thee 
Lie  treasured,  child  of  our  prayers,  our  eldest  son  ! 

God  keep  thee,  Frank,  firm  in  temptation's  hour ! 
'T  will  come  on  thee ;  it  has  on  all  the  earth. 
God  be  thy  shield,  and  God  thy  comforter ; 
We  yield  thee  up  to  Him.     Be  thou  His  child. 
Prompt  to  obey  His  will ;  His  messenger. 
To  bear  to  darkened  men  the  light  of  life  ; 
His  loving,  loved  disciple.     May  thy  head 
Eest  on  the  Saviour's  bosom,  fitting  place 
For  one  whom  earthly  rest  can  never  fill ; 
For  gentle  souls,  for  spirits  born  to  be 
Immortal  as  their  author. 

Live,  fair  boy, 
A  pillar  of  the  truth  on  earth,  and  then 
A  gem,  to  shine  with  living,  glowing  light 
Bright  in  the  Saviour's  coronet. 

Septembek  5,  1836. 


FAMILY  PICTURES. 


TO   LITTLE  ANN. 

OUR  babe,  escaping  from  life's  woes 
Ere  one  brief  day  was  given, 
Just  gleamed  on  earth,  a  fitful  ray, 
Then  shone,  a  star  in  heaven. 

At  sunset's  mild  and  chastened  hour 
We  laid  her  'ueath  the  sod,  — 

Our  earliest  representative 
Before  the  throne  of  God. 

September  15,  1837. 


DANIEL  APPLETON   WHITE.^ 

ANOTHER  bantling !  lo,  he  comes, 
Not  Miss,  but  Mr.,  Fudge ; 
A  master-spirit,  born  to  be 
Surnamed  "  the  little  judge  "  ! 

A  portly  personage,  and  fair, 

In  wit  and  knowledge  big ; 
Fat  as  an  alderman,  and  decked, 

Judge-like,  in  his  white  wig. 

1  It  was  understood  from  the  beginning  that  he  was  to  be  a  lawyer, 
like  his  great-nncle  whoso  name  he  bore ;  but  he  became  a  minister 
and  a  Doctor  of  Divinity. 


POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Off !  Puss  and  Frank  and  Sallie,  off ! 

The  Master  bids  you  trudge  ! 
For  I,  in  all  these  parts,  am  made 

His  Majesty,  the  Judge  ! 

"  Tin  plate  and  mug  are  mine,  —  who  dares 
My  rank  of  power  to  grudge  ? 

I  '11  have  my  way ;  I  know  I  'm  right. 
Left-handed,  but  a  judge ! 

"  Off  from  the  staircase  !  children,  off ! " 
(Why  don't  the  babies  budge  ?) 

"  I  'm  coming  down  at  one  broad  leap  !  " 
There  sprawling  lies  the  judge. 

Whatever  mighty  man  has  done. 

Another,  doubtless,  can ; 
Now  don't  you  think  this  wondrous  judge 

Will  make  a  wondrous  man  ? 

June  18,  1840. 


FAMILY  PICTURES. 


II.     ANNIVERSARIES. 


TO    MY    DAUGHTER    MAEY,  ON    HER 
EIGHTEENTH   LIRTH-DAY. 

SO !  leap  the  limit  now  that  parts 
The  woman  from  the  child : 
Enter  life's  great  career  at  last,  — 
No  more  with  toys  beguiled. 

Earth  spreads  its  pageant  at  thy  feet, 
The  bright  world  opens  wide, — 

Go,  be  a  woman,  glad  assume 
The  toils  wliich  thee  abide ! 

Or  joy,  or  woe,  —  no  tongue  can  tell 

What  fate  thy  lot  may  be ; 
But  meet  it  bravely,  strong  in  faith, 

God  rules  thy  destiny. 

Like  breezes  o'er  tlie  bending  grain. 

Like  sunlight  on  the  wave. 
Earth's  rapid  joys  and  trials  pass ; 

Jehovah  lives  to  save. 

Go,  be  a  woman ;  round  thy  path 
Make  love  and  gladness  spring ; 

Reap  in  all  fields ;  from  every  task 
Some  sheaves  of  goodness  bring. 

So  shall  life's  current  cheerful  flow  ; 

So  bright  shall  be  thy  days  ; 
No  flattering  words  shall  make  thy  fame ; 

Thy  works  shall  be  thy  praise. 


10  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


TO  MY  DAUGHTER  MARY,  ON  HER 
WEDDING  DAY. 

FORTH  from  the  sheltering  wing  of  home, 
Forth  from  its  sunlit  bowers, 
Fly  like  the  bird,  intent  to  roam. 
And  try  her  new  fledged  powers. 

Peace  spread  its  gentle  pinions  o'er 

The  nest  so  warm  and  fair  ; 
And  nature's  glories  round  her  pour. 

When  free  in  upper  air. 

O'er  broad,  sweet  fields,  on  joyous  wings, 

With  warbling  throat,  she  flies  ; 
She  sings  and  soars,  and  soars  and  sings, 

Plumed  for  the  distant  skies. 

So  from  thy  dear,  delightful  home. 

With  trusting  faith  aspire  ; 
Life's  beckoning  labors  bid  thee  come ; 

The  high  behest  desire. 

Like  evening  sunlight  on  the  hill, 

Like  verdure  on  the  sod. 
Love,  pure  and  ardent,  lingers  still 

Where'er  thy  steps  have  trod. 

April  27,  1858, 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  U 


TO  MY  DAUGHTE?.,  MARY  W.  JONES, 

ON   HER  TWENTY-FIFTH   MARRIAGE  ANNIVERSARY, 
APRIL  27,  1883. 

BACKWARD,  to-day,  my  sunny  thoughts  are  turn- 
ing. 
Speeding  through  happy  years,  loving  and  learning, 
So  gently  led  through  flowery  paths  of  blessing, 
Life's  truest  joys  in  all  their  wealth  possessing. 

"Wliat  was  my  wish,  —  my  young  heart's  early  craving, 
What  forms  of  bliss,  before  my  fancy  waving, 
Still  lured  me  on,  —  life's  pathway  scarcely  broken, 
And  love's  first  lisping  utterance  scarcely  spoken  ? 

I  hoped,  I  sang,  so  happy  in  my  dreaming,  — 
Would  tlie  reality  be  like  the  seeming  ? 
Have  I  life's  choicest  pleasures  overstated  ? 
Have  I  its  Paradises  antedated  ? 


Or  will  the  l)irds  of  bliss  be  ever  winging 
Their  joyous  flight  around,  soaring  and  singing  ; 
Day  feel  no  chill  of  twilight's  damp  descending. 
Nor  sunshine,  risen  in  glow,  find  darkened  ending? 

Thank   God,  thank   God,   tlie  bright  path  grows   but 

brighter ! 
Thank  God,  pain's  light  yoke  grows  forever  lighter ! 
The  sunny  course,  which  seemed  at  first  so  winning, 
Confirms,  a  thousand  fold,  its  fair  beginning. 


12  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

And  thus  the  years,  full  five  times  five,  so  fleeting. 
Told  the  sweet  tale  of  strength  and  weakness  meeting, 
In  summertide  alike,  and  stormy  weather, 
Drawing  the  weak  and  strong  closer  together. 

And  one  who  came,  full  welcome,  in  life's  entry, 
Stands  at  our  age's  door,  a  loving  sentry ; 
Fitly,  with  filial  clasp  in  clasp  maternal. 
Binding  the  love-knot  of  our  season  vernal. 

Hail,  wedded  pair,  be  yours  no  day  of  sorrows,    ' 
But  only  brilliant  morns  and  glad  to-morrows, 
Till  life  at  last,  from  earthly,  grows  supernal. 
And  joy,  from  earthly  joy,  becomes  eternal. 


c.X«o 


TO   SALLIE,   ON    HER    EIGHTEENTH 
BIRTHDAY. 

SPRING,  with  its  bright  and  cheerful  hours, 
Flies  like  the  mist  away  ; 
But  weaves  around  our  fragrant  bowers 
The  light  of  summer's  ray. 

And  summer,  with  its  brilliant  beams. 

Gives  way  to  autumn's  reign  ; 

And  every  swelling  garner  teems 

With  heaps  of  golden  grain. 

So  childhood,  like  the  spring,  retires. 

That  nobler  youth  may  rise ; 
And  youth  to  riper  age  aspires 

And  yearns  for  Paradise. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  13 

So  life  rolls  on  ;  each  precious  hour 

Swells  with  the  life  to  be, 
And  ripening  years  prepare  the  dower 

Of  immortality. 

Leave  the  glad  memories  of  the  past, 

To  holier  calls  respond ; 
Upward  with  joyful  vigor  haste, 

The  goal  is  still  beyond. 

Passed  is  the  limit  that  divides 

Childhootl  from  ripening  life  ; 
Go,  see  what  work  thy  hand  abides, 

And  dare  the  noble  strife. 

God  be  thy  guide,  —  His  sheltering  hand 

Direct  and  guard  thy  w^ay ; 
So  shall  life's  promises  expand 

In  fair,  immortal  day. 

October  18,  1856. 

oo>0<0« 

TO    FRANK,    ON"   HIS    TWENTY-FIRST 
BIRTHDAY. 

SEPTEMBER  5,   1857. 

SO !  be  a  man  and  gird  thy  soul 
To  life's  exalted  aims  ! 
The  world  awaits  thee ;  go  and  meet 
Its  just  and  lofty  claims. 

Temptation  round  thy  bark  will  roar; 

Stem  its  o'erwhelming  tide. 
Breast  all  its  waves  with  manly  force, 

And  in  God's  strength  abide. 


14  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

God  calls  the  workman  to  his  toil ; 

Go  with  strong  arm  and  free, 
To  do  His  bidding,  and  await 

Life's  opening  destiny. 

As  springs  the  oak,  with  budding  hope, 

From  the  small  acorn  riven, 
Spreads  far  and  wide  its  sheltering  boughs, 

And  lifts  its  head  to  heaven,  — 

So  from  this  starting  point  of  life 

Pursue  thy  widening  way. 
Blessing  and  blest,  till  time  shall  bring 

The  light  of  endless  day. 


EWING  AT   TWENTY-ONE. 

LAUNCHED  safely  on  life's  sunny  main, 
With  morn's  bright  promise  round  thee  spread, 
Live  nobly,  that  earth's  waiting  train 
May  pour  their  blessings  on  thy  head. 

What  e'er  the  voice  of  duty  claims, 

Go  forth,  thy  destiny  to  meet ; 
Let  tireless  hope  and  lofty  aims 

Make  darkness  light  and  labor  sweet. 

Sow  goodly  seed  in  every  field. 

From  every  field  rich  harvests  bring ; 

None  is  too  poor  some  fruit  to  yield, 
Let  ripening  glory  crown  life's  spring. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  15 

So  o'er  thee  —  for  love  cannot  tire  — 
God's  covenant  grace  shall  still  abide, 

Like  Israel's  pillared  cloud  and  fire,  — 
By  day,  thy  light ;  by  night,  thy  guide. 


And  when,  like  autumn's  withered  leaves, 
The  proud,  the  base,  unnoticed,  fall. 

Thy  deeds  shall  be  like  garnered  sheaves, 
And  God  shall  bind  and  keep  them  all. 


oXKc 


TO   MY   WIFE   AT   FIFTY. 

"T^  IS  fifty  years,  —  God  bless  her, 

J-       A  little  more,  perhaps ; 
When  the  heart  is  good  and  loving. 

How  fast  the  years  elapse. 
We  count  time,  not  by  pulse-beats. 

Or  wrinkles  on  the  brow, 
But  by  love's  broad,  lighted  circle,  — 

An  ever-lingering  Now. 


I  spoke  of  wrinkles  —  did  I  ? 

Oh,  no,  the  loving  lines 
Drawn  round  the  earth,  like  girdles, 

Have  here  impressed  their  signs ; 
And  if  white  rose  leaves  sprinkle 

Their  sheen  upon  her  hair. 
The  once  bright  aul)urn  tresses 

A  silvery  beauty  wear. 


16  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

I  wrote  it  fifty,  —  did  I  ? 

It  might  be  thirty  less,  — 
Her  young  heart  has  such  power 

To  care  for  and  to  bless ; 
As  sunshine  near  the  evening 

Smiles  with  a  fairer  ray, 
And  makes  the  hour  of  setting 

The  sweetest  in  the  day. 

I  might  have  written  twenty,  — 

But  one  that  filled  her  nest 
Boasts  of  her  thirty  summers, 

And  a  rosebud  on  her  breast ; 
And  one,  grave  years  creep  o'er  him 

And  graver  scenes  employ,  — 
Now,  a  young,  doting  father. 

But  her  once  fair-haired  boy ; 

And  one,  her  babe  caressing, 

With  fond,  maternal  look  ; 
And  one,  his  life  consuming 

O'er  legal  brief  and  book  ; 
And  two,  intently  watching 

The  shadows  cast  before,  — 
I  might  have  written  twenty, 

But  yet  it  must  be  more. 

Yes,  fifty  years,  —  God  bless  her,  — 

Perhaps  a  little  more  ; 
No  matter  what  the  number, 

'T  is  all  a  shining  store,  — 
As  summer  wakes  new  blessings 

With  every  day  that  springs  ; 
And  every  breeze  comes  wafting 

Fresh  fragrance  on  its  wings. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  17 

The  days,  in  love  and  blessing, 

Like  glancing  sunbeams  sped, 
Since  angels  sang,  responsive. 

Around  her  cradle-bed ; 
They  chanted  love  and  promise. 

Not  time,  or  years,  to  be ; 
No  matter  what  the  number. 

Perhaps  't  is  fifty-three. 


February  8, 1866. 


OUR  GOLDEN  WEDDING. 

1834-1884. 

BEHOLD,  dear  wife,  how  things  have  changed, 
Through  sunshine  and  through  showers ; 
The  spring  has  ripened  into  fall, 
The  buds  have  turned  to  tlowers. 

What  long,  wide  paths  our  feet  have  trod, 

Since  the  far  days  of  old ! 
But  love  has  changed  each  woe  to  good, 

The  silver  moon  to  gold. 

These  fifty  years  of  wedded  love, 

How  brief  and  few  they  seem  ! 
Swift  as  a  summer-day  of  joy, 

Eventful  as  a  dream  ! 

The  babes  we  fostered  long  ago. 

And  called  them  "  cliildren  "  then ; 
The  girls  are  into  mothers  grown. 

The  boys  to  stalwart  men. 

2 


18  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

We  launched  our  bark  in  sunny  youth, 
The  date  seems  far  away  ; 

But  years  have  shortened  into  months, 
Months  into  fleeting  days. 

Once,  like  new  ships,  that  ride  in  port, 
With  canvas  all  unfurled, 

Successful  voyagers,  our  keel 
Has  sailed  half  round  the  world. 

By  day  God's  loving  cloud  has  moved, 

A  shelter  o'er  our  head  ; 
And  still  by  night  our  winding  course 

The  pillared  fire  has  led. 

Sail  on,  fair  craft,  so  bravely  kept 
Unharmed  by  wind  or  wave ; 

The  hand  so  skilful  to  direct. 
Is  mighty,  too,  to  save. 

Sail  on,  sail  on,  till  golden  light 
Shines  o'er  the  distant  sea, 

And  guides  the  vessel  to  its  port, 
Blest  immortality. 

September  16,  1884. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  19 


TO  CARRIE   ON  HER  FIFTIETH 
BIRTHDAY. 

CHILD  of  my  warm  affection, 
Hast  thou  so  stately  grown  ? 
And  can  thy  years  be  fifty,  — 

My  little  one,  my  own  ? 
Thy  love,  thy  sunny  temper, 

Thy  sweet  and  blessed  ways 
Made  thee  a  child  of  promise 
In  all  thy  early  days. 

The  years  have  passed  so  swiftly, 

I  took  no  note  of  time  ; 
Art  thou  a  wife,  —  a  mother  ? 

While  babes  around  thee  climb  ? 
Art  thou,  in  light  and  power. 

One  of  the  world's  bright  rays  ? 
Do  thy  companions  bless  thee  ; 

And  are  thy  works  thy  praise  ? 


Ah,  yes,  the  years  advancing 

Have  brought  thee  joy  and  giief, 
As  thou  to  many  a  weak  one 

Hast  ministered  relief. 
A  blessing  to  the  living, 

A  watcher  o'er  the  dead. 
Heaven  weaves  its  crown  of  honor, 

A  halo  round  thy  head. 


20  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

And  if  thy  darling  left  thee 

To  find  his  home  above, 
Heaven  has  its  many  mansions, 

Heaven  is  the  land  of  love ; 
Trial  may  prove  a  blessing. 

O  heart,  be  still  and  brave. 
Wait  for  the  great  revealing,  — 

God  takes  but  what  He  gave. 

As  from  the  eastern  glory 

The  morning  sun  ascends. 
And  in  a  fairer  radiance 

His  western  journey  ends,  — 
So  from  the  sweet  beginnings, 

A  brighter  noon  shall  grow, 
And  Heaven  shall  crown  thy  fifties 

With  its  immortal  glow. 

August  19,  1893. 


o-i^c 


MY  WIFE,  TO   A   FRIEND   WHO   WOULD 
GUESS   HER  AGE. 

OH,  no,  my  friend,  you  blunder  there. 
Your  guess  is  far  from  true ; 
She  has  grown  dearer  many  a  year, 
But  not  yet  "  sixty-two." 

Time's  careless  fingers  o'er  her  head 
Have  dropped  the  crystal  dew,  — 

The  pearls  flow  down  in  silver  gloss ; 
But  she  's  not  "  sixty-two." 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  21 

You  think  she  'd  seen  so  much  of  life, 

Alike  the  old  and  new, 
She  must  be  quite  advanced,  perhaps, — 

Well,  far  from  "  sixty-two." 

You  might  have  guessed  more  wisely,  friend, 

Had  you  a  better  clew ; 
You  judge  her  by  her  wisdom  ?  —  Well, 

She  is  not  "  sixty-two." 

Her  cheerful  face,  her  bonny  curls. 

Her  heart  so  warm  and  true,  — 
Tell  tales  of  years  of  joy  and  love ; 

But  she 's  not  "  sixty-two." 

For  years,  home's  sunny  bowers  more  bright 

With  clustering  offshoots  grew, 
And  other  bowers  have  reared  their  young ; 

But  she 's  not  "  sixty-two." 

Diminish  it  by  four,  I  pray  ; 

Her  sky,  still  bright  and  blue, 
Bends,  loving,  round  her  youthful  head ; 

Yet  she 's  not  "  sixty-two.' 

The  silvery  brown  that  crowns  her  brow 

Suggests,  "  Serenely  wait, 
And  sometime,  on  some  pleasant  morn. 

She  '11  wake,  just  fifty-eight." 

Febbuart,  1871. 


22  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


OUR  FIFTY-NINTH   MARRIAGE 
ANNIVERSARY. 

NOT  gifts  of  gold  or  costly  gems, 
But  that  which  is  all  price  above. 
The  festal  marriage-day  provides, — 
Mercies  to  cheer  and  hearts  to  love. 

How  many  sunny  years  have  passed  ! 

And  each  has  left  its  radiant  line ; 
The  fifty  long  ago  were  told, 

And  now,  behold,  't  is  fifty-nine. 

God  of  the  loving,  God  of  love. 

Whose  favor  blessed  the  earlier  days, 

Shine  on  the  years  that  yet  remain, 
While  silver  hairs  proclaim  thy  praise. 

September  16,  1893. 


l>J<«o 


SIXTIETH   ANNIVERSARY   OF   OUR 
WEDDING. 

TO  MY  WIFE,  SEPTEMBER  16,  1834-1894. 

SIXTY  benignant  years. 
With  all  their  joys  and  tears, 
Have  rolled  by. 
Since  we,  made  one  for  life. 
Were  wedded,  man  and  wife.. 
You  and  I. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  23 

The  blest  dcays  we  have  seen, 
The  lands  where  we  have  been, 

You  and  I, 
Will  linger  on  the  brain, 
Like  some  sweet  song's  refrain, 

Till  we  die. 


The  friends  our  hearts  have  loved, 
Whose  love  our  hearts  have  proved, 

Yours  and  mine,  — 
Some  are  our  solace  yet ; 
Some,  like  bright  suns,  now  set. 

Still  they  shine. 

The  years  and  ages  pass. 
Like  shadows  o'er  the  grass,  — 

Love  endures  ; 
Plants  of  immortal  root 
Cluster  immortal  fruit, 

Ours-and-yours. 


TO   MARY  REED  (FRANK'S  WIFE),  AT   FIFTY. 

FEBRUARY  9,  18i3-lS93. 

SO  swiftly  the  years  on  their  axles  have  rolled, 
The  scenes   they  have  brought  us  seem  only  a 
dream,  — 
Like  shooting  stars,  crossing  the  ocean  of  blue, 
Or  bubbles  of  air  floatinfr  down  on  the  stream. 


24  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

When  roused  from  our  dreaming,  we  find  't  is  all  real, 
The  months,  in  their  tlight,  have  rolled  up  into  years, 

With  shadows  and  brightness,  with  sorrows  and  joys, 
The  glow  of  their  hopes,  and  their  faith,  and  their 
tears. 

Our  birthdays,  like  milestones,  are  stationed  to  tell 
How  rapid  the  pace,  and  how  far  off  the  start ; 

We  note   them,  we  count   them;  but  what   are   the 
years, 
If  only  young  love  lingers  warm  in  the  heart  ? 

Methinks  Father  Time,  in  his  hurry,  forgot. 

And  marked  on  his  tally  more  years  than  have  sped ; 

No  blush  of  the  red  rose  has  paled  from  your  cheek. 
No  petal  of  white  fluttered  down  on  your  head. 

By  sickness  and  weakness,  bereavement  and  pain. 
Like  flowers   by  the  tempest   your  heart  has  been 
bowed ; 
But  Love  has  provided  more  gladness  than  gloom. 
More  mercy  than   judgment,  more   sunshine   than 
cloud. 

What  mercy  and  goodness  have  gleamed  through  your 
years ! 

How  lovely,  how  swiftly  the  fifty  have  passed ! 
With  glow  of  the  sunset,  and  glory,  and  peace, 

May  fifty  be  added,  —  the  crown  of  the  last. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  25 


TO   MY   BELOVED   WIFE,  AT   SEVENTY. 

THREESCORE  and  ten  !  the  blushing  spring 
Has  changed  to  autumn's  brown  ; 
The  glossy  head,  for  auburn  curls, 
Now  wears  a  silver  crown. 

Fair  day  of  life,  so  rich  in  good ! 

So  seldom  tempest-tossed  ! 
How  joy  and  love  have  filled  the  space 

Between  the  bloom  and  frost ! 

And  thou  half  round  the  globe  hast  trod  ; 

Hast  traced,  from  distant  seas. 
The  northern  crown  and  southern  cross, 

And  felt  the  tropic  breeze. 

Thy  children,  held  in  honor,  stand, 

Known  in  the  world's  highways  ; 
Thy  husband,  too,  —  and  he,  with  theirs, 

This  loving  tribute  pays. 

And  all  thy  steps,  divinely  planned, 

God's  loving  care  has  led  ; 
And  countless  blessings  has  His  hand, 

Like  spring-flowers,  round  thee  shed. 

Threescore  and  ten  !  the  limit  reached 

That  human  years  may  fill,  — 
God's  covenant  love,  God's  promised  grace 

Will  shield  and  guide  thee  still. 


26  POEMS   OF  HOME. 

And  life's  long  path,  through  sun  and  storm, 
Blest  boon  to  mortals  given,  — 

Or  smooth,  or  rough,  at  last  shall  prove 
One  long,  sweet  path  to  heaven. 

Davenport,  Iowa. 


oJOic 


TO   MY   WIFE   ON   HER   SEVENTY-FIFTH 
BIRTHDAY. 

KETROSPECTIVE  PICTURES. 

A  FAIRY  girl,  with  wavy  curls ; 
Her  trade  in  books  and  pen. 
Like  one  who  scatters  lovely  pearls ; 
Her  sunny  years,  — just  ten. 

Another  figure,  stately  grown,  — 
What  changes  time  has  wrought ! 

How  swift  the  sobering  years  have  flown. 
With  noblest  purpose  fraught ! 

Twice  ten,  —  the  scene  is  changed ;  I  hear 
His,  "  Wilt  thou  ?  "  her  "  I  will ; " 

She  pledged  her  faith  without  a  fear, 
Risking,  or  good,  —  or  ill. 

Again,  thrice  ten,  —  and  clinging  buds 

In  sweet  affection  twine. 
Successive,  with  their  tendrils  fair 

Around  the  clustering  vine. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  27 

Four  tens,  —  the  happy  summit  reached, 

Life's  harder  conliicts  done, 
Her  sunny  curls  with  silver  streaked, 

Life's  golden  prizes  won. 

Revered  and  loved,  with  honor  crowned, 

Now  with  hQX  five  times  ten, 
In  peace  and  hope  she  walks  and  lives, 

Lives,  iu  her  babes,  again. 

Sweet  eminence,  too  fair  to  leave. 

And  so  she  lingers  still ; 
Her  cup  of  good,  at  six  times  ten. 

What  constant  blessings  fill ! 

The  world  is  wide ;  like  Israel's  hosts. 

Sheltered  and  led  of  God, 
At  seven  times  ten  her  favored  steps 

Remotest  empires  trod. 

Five  more  are  added,  —  years  of  joy  ; 

Walk  on,  with  trusting  feet, 
Till  yenTsfull  twenty-five  shall  make 

Thy  century  complete. 

February  8, 1888. 


28  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


TO   MY   WIFE   ON   HER   EIGHTIETH 
BIRTHDAY. 

This  poem  divides  fourscore  years  of  life  into  four  parts,  of 
one  score  each.  It  proceeds  on  the  idea  that  the  first  score  of  a 
life  of  eighty  years  is  mainly  a  period  of  labor  and  promise,  like 
spring;  the  second,  of  vigorous  toil,  activity,  and  growth,  like 
summer;  the  third,  harvest  and  fruit  from  the  preceding  period, 
like  autumn;  the  fourth,  rest  and  beauty,  like  winter,  which 
is  marked  by  the  rest  and  crystalline  beauty  incident  to  that 
season. 

First  Score.  —  Speing. 

A  SCORE  of  years  !  —  as  spring  matures 
Its  tender  bud,  and  leaf,  and  bloom, 
While  Time's  swift  shuttle  flies  and  weaves 
The  loveliest  tints  in  nature's  loom, 
Day  after  day  the  picture  grows 
Beneath  the  weaver's  skilful  hand, 
Till  the  sweet  beauty  stands  complete, 
Which  love  conceived  and  wisdom  planned,  — 
So  light  and  shade,  and  night  and  day, 
Blessed  the  fair  flower  of  human  mould. 
While  frame  and  form,  and  heart  and  mind, 
Hasted  like  petals  to  unfold  ; 
What  tint  and  tone  of  grace  they  bore, 
What  richest  fruits !  'twas  just  a  score. 

Second  Score.  —  Summer. 

A  second  score  !  —  as  summer  calls 
The  fervent  heart  and  toiling  hand 
To  wield  the  scythe,  to  bind  the  sheaf, 
To  answer  labor's  high  demand, 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  29 

No  hour  is  left  for  aimless  play  ; 

All  the  loug  day,  till  evening  lowers, 

Life  bids  to  work,  its  stern  behest 

Demands  the  workman's  grandest  powers, — 

So  in  the  summer  tide  of  hope 

With  ceaseless  pains  the  matron  wrought. 

By  noble  deeds  and  nobler  aims 

Enriching  life,  inspiring  thought. 

What  summer  growth  those  labors  bore  ! 

What  ripening  fruits  !  —  life's  second  score. 

Third  Score.  —  Autumn. 

Threescore !  —  how  richly  autumn  bends 
Beneath  her  weight  of  fruit  and  flowers  ! 
Beauty  and  plenty  glow  and  meet, 
Like  garlands  twined  around  her  bowers ; 
The  heat  and  drought,  the  dew  and  rain, 
And  wearing  toil  which  months  record. 
God  notes  them  all,  —  no  work  is  lost, 
And  each  at  last  brings  large  reward. 
So  harvests  from  thy  heart  and  hand 
Are  heaped  along  the  world's  highways ; 
Children  and  children's  children  blend 
Their  voices  in  thy  worthy  praise. 
Thy  works,  the  third,  the  fruitful  score, 
Are  like  the  autumn's  garnered  store. 

Fourth  Score.  —  Winter. 

Fourscore !  —  how  sweet,  how  fair  the  scene, 
When  winter  spreads,  o'er  all  the  earth, 
Her  bridal  robe  of  purest  white. 
Her  crystal  gems,  of  heavenly  birth  ! 
Peace  reigns  where  all  was  life  and  care  ; 
Nature  keeps  jubilee  of  rest ; 


30  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Of  all  the  seasons,  each  admired, 
This  is  the  loveliest,  the  best. 
So  when  the  vessel  nears  its  port, 
Its  anchor  in  smooth  water  cast. 
With  its  rich  cargo  safe  at  home, 
It  rides  the  gentle  wave  at  last ; 
Yet  sail  along  this  peaceful  shore, 
I  pray,  dear  wife,  another  score. 


TO   MY  WIFE,  AT   EIGHTY-ONE. 

I'VE  known  and  loved  her  many  a  year 
Since  first  I  called  her  mme. 
"  How  many  years  ? "    I  '11  tell  you,  friend, 

Why,  fifty  years  and  nine ; 
So  many  years  we  talked  of  "  ours," 
And  never  "  mine  "  and  "  thine." 

She  must  be  quite  advanced,  I  think,  — 

A  queen  with  silver  hair. 
Oh,  never  mind  the  months  and  days ; 

The  things  that  people  wear 
Are  all  outside ;  there 's  something  else. 

That 's  ever  young  and  fair. 

'T  is  love  that  makes  the  joy  of  life,  — 
Love,  the  best  gift  of  heaven ; 

A  clasp  that  holds  when  meaner  ties 
Grow  feeble,  or  are  riven ; 

It  keeps  its  circle  perfect,  hke 
The  Hebrew  number  "  seven." 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  31 

And  so  the  years  have  trundled  on, 

Alike  in  calm  and  storm  ; 
Our  birdies,  iu  bright  plumage  dressed. 

Of  comely  growth  and  form, 
Have  lied  the  nest,  —  the  dear  old  nest,  — 

And  still  the  nest  is  warm. 

The  world  is  better  for  the  songs 

Thy  fairy  lips  have  sung  ; 
And  sweeter  for  the  fragrant  flowers 

Around  thy  pathway  flung,  — 
God's  gift,  as  true  iu  silvery  age 

As  when  they  called  thee  "  young." 

Queen  of  my  heart,  queen  of  my  house, 

Its  gladness  and  its  sun. 
Dear  for  the  thousand  things  thou  art. 

For  thousands  thou  hast  done, 
Blest  are  the  years  thy  life  has  spanned. 

Thy  fourscore  years  and  one. 

Febbcary  8,  1894. 


32  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


TO    MY    WIFE    ON    HER    EIGHTY- 
SECOND   BIETHDAY. 

'nr^  IS  well  to  celebrate  the  days 

-L       That  mark  the  flight  of  years, 
And,  thoughtful,  take  account  of  stock,  - 

The  joys,  the  hopes,  the  fears, 
That  crowd  the  life,  or  broad  or  brief. 

Along  the  curious  maze, 
A  precious  tribute,  each,  in  turn, 

On  Memory's  altar  lays. 

Thou  canst  not  e'er  forget  the  eve, 

In  thy  young  brilliant  life, 
When,  without  change  of  soul  or  name, 

Thou  wast  a  wedded  wife. 
Forget  ?  Oh,  no ;  nor,  nobler  still. 

The  blessings  of  that  other. 
When  infant  beauty  on  thee  smiled, 

Saluting  thee  as  mother. 

Refreshing  as,  in  summer's  heat. 

Comes  to  the  rose  the  dew, 
And  gladdening  as  the  perfumed  breeze. 

Thy  heart  so  warm  and  true  ; 
Knitting  fresh  links  of  love  and  bliss. 

An  ever-lengthening  chain, 
Thine  is  the  honored  sum,  to-day. 

Of  fourscore  years  and  twain. 

February  8,  1895. 


Y' 


^?^z/c^  \7^iiiM 


f^/6;/Sj. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  33 


III.    TENDER   PARTINGS. 


ELIZABETH,   THE   INFANT   ANGEL. 

ASCENDED,  dearly  loved,  in  life's  young  bud  ; 
Too  fair,  too  sweet,  'mid  earth's  rude  blasts  to  stay, 
Safe  in  the  bosom  of  thy  Father,  God, 

Bright,  beauteous  infant,  from  thy  cumbering  clay 
So  soon  escaped,  its  happy  heavenward  way 

Thy  soul  hath  taken.     Like  the  light  of  morn, 
Thou  didst  shed  on  us  one  fair  passing  ray, 

Then  to  thy  glorious  Source,  thou,  babe,  wast  borne. 

Dear  infant  angel,  safe  in  joy  and  God  ! 

Babe  of  fair  promise,  child  of  fondest  prayer ! 
Hail,  rescued  spirit !  painful  is  the  rod  ; 

But  never  will  we  mourn  that  thou  art  there. 
Bright  gem,  we  would  not  tear  thee  from  thy  crown, 

Nor  bid  thy  harp,  sweet  seraph,  silent  lie  ; 
Stay  in  thy  mansion,  infant,  still  our  own. 

Never  to  grieve  again,  or  fear,  or  die. 

Short  was  thy  pilgrim  path,  a  sunny  hour ; 

Life  was  to  thee  too  sweet  a  boon  to  last. 
What  joy  it  gave  thee,  gentle  morning  flower  ! 

How  soon  the  glorious  pageant  o'er  thee  passed! 
Passed  !    Yes,  from  earth,  —  but  fairer  life  is  thine ; 

The  vale  of  death  thy  little  foot  hath  trod ; 
And  now  in  life  immortal  thou  dost  shine, 

Dear  infant,  in  the  paradise  of  God. 

March  24,  1842. 


34  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


THE  JEWEL  AND   ITS   SETTING. 

I  HAD  a  jewel  passing  rich, 
Set  in  its  lovely  frame  ; 
How  on  the  prize  my  heart  was  fixed 
From  the  bright  day  it  came  ! 

The  setting  was  of  choicest  skill, 

As  fair  as  fair  could  be  ; 
And  art  divine  had  done  its  best 

To  make  it  sweet  to  me. 
The  purple  haze  of  distant  hills, 

The  evening's  golden  light, 
The  bending  rainbow's  painted  arch, 

Were,  to  my  eye,  less  bright. 

The  gleaming  of  the  silver  sheen 

Across  the  summer  sea ; 
The  grace  that  winds  the  clinging  vine 

Around  the  greenwood  tree  ; 
The  weeping  elm,  the  stately  pine  ; 

The  breath  of  fragrant  flowers  ; 
The  broad,  blue  sky,  the  landscape  green, 

The  leafy,  sheltering  bowers  ; 
The  dark  line  of  the  circling  hills 

Around  the  horizon's  verge  ; 
The  blue  rim  of  the  far-off  sea, 

Where  billows  toss  and  surge,  — 
All  have  their  glory ;  all,  their  worth ; 

On  each  the  dazzled  eye 
Loves  to  look  lingeringly,  and  gaze 

Eaptured  and  dreamily ; 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  35 

From  each  the  mantle  of  such  prace 
Seems  round  its  cliarms  to  fall,  — 

The  setting  of  my  beauteous  gem 
To  me  surpassed  them  all. 

So  fair  the  setting ;  fairer  yet 

The  priceless,  sparkling  gem. 
Fit  honor  for  a  princely  hand, 

Or  regal  diadem. 
The  jewel  made  the  setting  bright, 

Within  whose  clasp  it  shone  ; 
'T  was  for  its  sake  the  frame  was  carved ; 

The  chief  charm  was  its  own. 

And  happy  seasons  onward  passed, 

And  mornings  went  and  came; 
And  still  the  precious  jewel  there 

Flashed  in  its  precious  frame. 
At  last,  some  sad,  sad  chance  befell, 

Which  dashed  it  to  the  ground  : 
The  precious  setting,  ruined,  fell ; 

The  gem  was  safe  and  sound. 

My  babe  was  like  the  jewel  rare ; 

The  frame,  his  cherished  form ; 
I  pressed  it  to  my  throbbing  heart, 

Dreading  some  wasting  storm. 
The  storm  has  spoiled  the  setting  fair. 

But  for  a  season  given  ; 
The  gem  I  prized,  unharmed,  still  shines 

Forever  safe  in  heaven. 

Chicago,  1885. 


36  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


IN    MEMORY    OF    MARY  WHITE   SMITH. 

RANGOON,  BURMAH,  FEBRUARY  5, 1888. 

I   SEE  the  blessed  angels  there  ; 
They  beckon  me  away 
From  night  and  pain,  from  sin  and  death, 
To  gladness,  light,  and  day. 

I  see  them  on  the  shining  stairs ; 

What  pure  white  robes  they  wear' 
'T  will  be  a  heaven  of  untold  bliss 

To  dwell  forever  there. 

I  see,  I  see  their  shining  wings ! 

I  hear,  I  hear  them  raise. 
In  sweetest  tone,  in  words  unknown, 

Their  songs  of  joy  and  praise  ! 

Come,  little  pilgrim,  come  away, 

To  you  such  grace  is  given ; 
Come,  for  of  children  such  as  thou 

The  kingdom  is  of  heaven  ! 

She  listened;  up  the  shining  stairs 

With  happy  feet  she  trod, 
And  found,  so  young,  that  blessed  home, 

The  paradise  of  God. 

February  6,  1878. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  37 

TWO   GARDENS, 

THE  HEAVENLY  AND  THE  EARTHLY. 

TWO  gardens,  flourishing  and  bright, 
Kept  by  one  gardener's  care, 
Smiled  in  the  sweet  and  sunny  light. 
And  breathed  with  perfumed  air. 

One  stood,  all  bathed  in  heavenly  joy, 

As  if  in  early  spring 
An  angel,  clad  in  rainbow  dyes. 

Shook  beauty  from  his  wing. 

No  frost  the  unfolding  petals  knew. 

No  blight  on  bud  or  bloom  ; 
No  lowering  cloud,  no  chilling  dew. 

No  emblem  of  the  tomb. 

And  one,  o'er  every  fragrant  bed 

A  chastened  sadness  lay. 
As  when  the  evening  shadows  close 

Around  a  summer's  day. 

Lily  and  rose  and  violet  smiled, 

Fair  as  a  glorious  gem  ; 
But  rose  and  lily,  doomed  to  fade. 

Sat  on  a  fragile  stem. 

In  one,  a  plant  of  beauty  blessed 

A  sweet  sequestered  bower, 
Breathed  fragrance  where  its  bloom  was  nursed, 

And  grew,  a  matchless  flower. 


38  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

The  gardener  saw  its  peerless  charms, 
And  chose  a  flower  so  rare 

To  grace  his  other  garden-bed 
And  so  removed  it  there. 

And  now  where  angels  walk  in  white, 
A  land  of  cloudless  skies, 

The  gathered  lily  fitly  blooms,  — 
A  flower  of  Paradise. 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  39 


IV.    REUNIONS. 


SALLIE'S  HOME. 

THIS  is  my  home,  —  my  fair,  bright  home, 
The  home  of  peace,  and  hope  and  love ; 
The  green  fields  wide  expand  below, 

And  heaven's  blue  arch  bends  sweet  above. 

Light  sifts  among  the  quivering  leaves. 
Like  angels  floating  from  the  sky ; 

And  twittering  birds  around  the  eaves 
Wliisper  of  unseen  homes  on  high. 

Mine  are  the  windows  where  the  sun 
Pours  his  fair  light  in  golden  streams, 

And  morn  and  eve  and  glowing  noon 
Are  gladdened  by  his  healing  beams. 

Mine  are  the  rooms,  for  rest  and  love, 
For  patience,  work,  and  worldly  care ; 

For  books,  and  friends,  and  widening  thought. 
For  tranquil  joy,  and  holy  prayer. 

Mine  is  the  landscape,  rich  and  rare,  — 
Beyond  the  wealth  of  Sheba's  queen ; 

The  pleasant  homes,  the  clustering  vines. 
The  long  cathedral  aisles  of  green. 

Mine,  through  His  love  whose  reverend  head 
Is  pillowed  on  the  Saviour's  breast ; 

Mine,  through  His  grace  whose  promise  bids 
The  widowed  heart  on  Him  to  rest. 


40  POEMS   OF  HOME. 

Mine,  — yet  not  mine  ;  for  all  is  God's, 
Myself  and  all  I  call  my  own. 

I  bow,  submissive  to  His  will ; 

I  kneel,  a  supplicant,  at  His  throne. 

Mine,  —  yet  not  mine ;  and  He  is  mine, 
On  Him  I  lean,  on  Him  I  call, 

Eejoiced,  were  all  my  comforts  lied, 
To  find  in  Him  my  all  in  all. 

Bridgeport,  Conn.,  May  24,  1891. 


AT  THE   OLD    HEARTHSTONE  AGAIN. 

SEPTEMBER  16,   1876. 

ONCE,  on  a  bright  and  happy  night, 
At  the  full  moon  in  September, 
A  fair  young  girl,  in  brilliant  curls,  — 

Long  ago,  but  we  remember,  — 
She  pledged  her  loving  heart  and  hand, 

In  the  joy  of  opening  life, 
Thenceforth  to  be,  or  weal  or  woe, 
A  fond  and  faithful  wife. 

And  so  two  souls,  like  mingling  drops, 

Began  their  course  together, 
Making  one  life,  —  like  rainbow  hues 

Blended  in  showery  weather. 
A  day,  a  happy  moon,  a  year, 

The  tide  of  time  rolled  on ; 
Days,  weeks  and  moons,  —  oh,  who  can  tell 

Where  the  glad  year  has  gone  ? 


FAMILY  PICTURES.  41 

One  day  within  tlie  liappy  nest 

Another  life  was  breathing : 
Three  souls  —  not  two  —  in  union  new, 

Young  buds  of  joy  were  wreatliing ; 
Two  Marys  made  the  mansion  bright,  — 

Two  Marys,  great  and  small ; 
And  one  high  shadowing  arm  of  love 

Embraced  and  gladdened  all. 

Yet  more,  as  sped  the  rolling  years, 

Like  dewdrops  of  the  morning, 
The  un warlike  infantry  advanced,  — 

Married  life's  best  adorning  ; 
And  joy  and  promise,  hope  and  love. 

Illumed  with  shining  ray. 
As  sunbeams  glittering  on  the  sea, 

Life's  varied,  cheerful  day. 

At  last,  when  the  young  curling  locks 

White  rose-leaves  came  to  sprinkle. 
And  near  the  corner  of  the  eyes 

Appeared  just  one  small  wrinkle, 
Six  youths  and  maidens  stood  within 

Those  loving  arms,  caressing, 
These  prizing  wliat  those  joyed  to  give, 

The  sire's  and  mother's  blessing. 

And  who  are  these  ?     How  swift  old  Time 

Works  the  most  wondrous  changes  ! 
How  the  arithmetic  of  youth 

That  slippery  elf  deranges  ! 
The  six  are  twelve  ;  the  twelve,  —  ah  me  !  — 

Eleven  more,  sweet  mother. 
To  these  add  HIM  and  HER ;  and,  please, 

The  NINETY  makes  one  other. 


42  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

'T  was  only  two,  in  earliest  years  ; 

Then  Mary  made  it  three ; 
One  wore,  long  since,  the  shining  robes 

Of  immortality. 
My  head  is  puzzled  o'er  the  count ; 

My  brain  is  in  a  fix ! 
'T  was  two,  't  was  three,  't  was  four  —  and  now 

They  say  it 's  twenty-six. 

One  Mary  once,  —  now  Mary  's  five ; 

One  Anna,  —  now  two  more  ; 
One  S.  F.  S.,  —  now  three  ;  two  Sa.'s, 

And  babies,  half  a  score. 
Of  lawyers,  two  ;  of  preachers,  four  ; 

Of  presidents,  a  pair. 
What  wonders,  in  the  land  of  dreams ! 

On  earth,  what  wonders  rare  ! 

So  here,  to-day,  in  grateful  love. 

One  precious  band,  we  mingle ; 
Each  for  the  others  bound  to  live. 

No  heart,  no  interest,  single. 
Some  keep  and  bless  the  early  home  ; 

Some  watch  where  day  beams  wake ; 
And  some  where  gorgeous  evening  dies,  — 

All  for  each  other's  sake. 

God  keep  the  little  circle  whole 

For  years,  the  jewels  brightening : 
Each  joy,  through  Him,  made  richer  joy, 

Each  grief.  He,  for  all,  lightening  ; 
Till,  in   some  happy  chme  rejoined,  — 

Eejoined,  no  more  to  sever. 
We  meet,  and  weep,  and  sing,  and  praise, 

And  love,  —  love  on,  forever. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  43 


SOCIAL    AMENITIES. 


KIND    GREETINGS. 


THE    FEIENDSHIPS    WE  FORMED. 

HARVARD  CLASS   OF  '29. 

THE    friendships  we  formed  when  life   was   still 
young ; 
The   sports   that   we  joined    in,   the   songs    we    then 

sung,  — 
How  oft  from  the  chambers  of  memory  they  well, 
Like  the  echo  of  waves  in  the  beautiful  shell. 
The  griefs  we  have  met  on  the  pathway  of  life, 
The  conquests  won  bravely  amid  the  stern  strife. 
The  light  and  the  shadow,  the  joy  and  the  woe,  — 
Form,  like  sunshine  and  raindrop,  the  radiant  bow 
That  rests  on  the  brow  of  the  storms  that  are  o'er, 
That   lights   up    the   wave   where   it   breaks   on    the 

shore. 
That  fades  like  the  fair  hues  of  hopes  that  are  riven, 
But  sails,  as  it  fades,  thro'  the  blue  arch  of  heaven. 
The  garlands  we  wove  on  the  foretop  of  Time, 
Tho'  robbed  of  the  freshness  they  wore  in  our  prime  ; 
The  castles  we  built,  so  lofty  and  fair, 
Tho'  crumbled  to  dust,  or  vanished  in  air  ; 
The  barks   we   once   freighted,   with   hearts    beating 

high. 
And  launched  on  the  sea  without  tremor  or  sigh, 


44  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Tho'  sunk  in  the  ocean  or  dashed  on  the  reef, 

The  more  grand  their  career,  the  more  sad  and  more 

brief ; 
Tho'  the  plants  we  have  loved  to  angels  are  given. 
Having  climbed  o'er  the  wall,  and  are  blooming   in 

heaven, — 
Still  this  chain  of   our  love  does   not   weaken   with 

years, 
Nor  wear  with  the  friction  of  toil  and  of  tears ; 
Nor  crumble  in  dust,  nor  vanish  like  breath ; 
Nor  chill  with  the  darkness,  and  shadow  of  death ; 
Nor  perish  in  shipwreck,  nor  waste  in  the  tomb,  — 
A  thing  to  be  lost  in  earth's  gathermg  gloom. 
Tho'  Time's  jealous  fingers  make  all  thmgs  decay, 
We  brighten  its  links  as  the  years  pass  away ; 
We  fastened  the  lock  in  our  youth  and  our  glee. 
Then  wandered  abroad  and  have  lost  the  sole  key. 
But  the  heart-clasp  unites  so  firmly  the  chain 
That 't  is  welded  by  time,  and  must  ever  remain. 

January  6,  1859. 


TO   A  YOUNG   FKIEND   AT   TWENTY-ONE.i 

LIKE  a  swift  racer,  clear  the  lines 
That  cross  thy  life's  unfoldmg  plan, 
And  leave  the  plays  that  please  the  child, 
For  toils  that  dignify  the  man. 

The  world  before  thee  waits  thy  choice ; 

The  coming  years  to  thee  belong. 
With  stern  ambition  climb  the  heights  ; 

Let  hardships  only  make  thee  strong. 

1  Charles  Foster  Koby,  of  Chicago.    1893. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  45 

Cleave  to  the  good,  the  pure,  the  just ; 

Be  thy  whole  life  a  life  of  love ; 
By  noble  thoughts  and  lofty  aims, 

Thyself  to  men  and  God  approve. 

Love  the  dear  land  that  gave  thee  birth,  — 

The  land  thy  fathers  died  to  save ; 
They,  the  real  nobles  of  the  earth, 

The  true,  the  loyal,  and  the  brave. 

Walk  in  the  footsteps  of  the  wise ; 

Frown  on  the  wrong,  the  right  defend ; 
Spurn  from  thy  soul  all  selfish  aims ; 

Do  thy  whole  duty  till  the  end. 

So  shalt  thou  leave  a  fragrant  fame ; 

Thy  deeds  thy  monument  shall  raise  ; 
The  world  shall  bless  thy  honored  name, 

And  men  unborn  shall  speak  thy  praise. 


TO   A  YOUNG   MAIDEN. 

AS  blushing  tints  still  mantle  o'er  the  shell 
Whose  tmy  owner  dwells  in  it  no  more ; 
As  frasrant  rose-leaves  to  the  traveller  tell 

Where  nodded  in  its  pride  the  beauteous  flower,  - 
So  may  thy  path  through  this  fair  world  be  strewn 

With  sweet  remembrances,  to  rouse  and  cheer 
The  weary  wanderer,  gladly  forced  to  own 

Where  thou  hast  trod,  a  joy  still  lingers  there. 

September  12,  1872. 


46  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


EEV.    JAMES    FEEEMAN    CLAEKE'S    70th 
BIETHDAY   CELEBEATION. 

THEEESCOEE  and  ten  !  —  the  crimson  sunlight, 
waning, 
Lights  up  the  landscape  with  intenser  glow ; 
The  arch  of   days  —  some,  bright ;    some,  dull  with 
raining  — 
Is  spanned  and  clasped  with  heaven's  fair,  radiant 
bow. 

Tlireescore  and  ten  !  —  the  years  consumed  in  toiling,  — 
Honored  and  happy,  how  they  fled  away  ! 

Earth  of  its  woes,  and  time  of  stings  despoiling, 
Day  ever  brightening  into  fairer  day  ! 

Threescore  and  ten  !  —  how  has  the  infant's  prattle 
Changed  to  the  eloquence  of  active  men  ! 

How  many,  fallen  in  life's  stern  storm  and  battle. 
Passed  on,  and  crowned,  will  come  no  more  again  ! 

Threescore  and  ten  !  —  how  fondly  memory  lingers 
With  friends  and  voices  known  and  loved  so  well ! 

And  deft  with  inspiration,  Fancy's  iingers 

Weave  the  old  histories  with  their  magic  spell. 

Threescore  and  ten  !  —  yet  marked  by  no  decaying. 
The  juicy  vine  festoons  the  sunny  hill,  — 

Its  summer  foliage,  fresh  and  full,  displaying. 
And  clusters  ripening  on  the  trellis  still. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  47 

Threescore  and  ten  !  —  Oh,  is  it  fact,  or  dreaming  ? 

How  strangely  wrong  our  judgment  is,  of  men  ; 
In  form  and  feature,  strong  and  youthful  seeming, 

We  lose  the  date,  and  think  age  young  again. 

Threescore  and  ten  !  —  the  evening  shadows  lengthen, 
And  whispering  winds  then-  fragrant  incense  breathe  ; 

Faith,  hope,  and  love  the  pilgrim  spirit  strengthen. 
And  hands  unseen  their  benedictions  wreathe. 

0  Life  mysterious,  whose  slow  unfolding 

Evades  the  prying  of  our  human  ken ! 
"We  trust  the  future  to  His  wise  upholding 

Whose  love  has  watched  the  threescore  years  and 
ten! 


o»ic 


DEACON  GEORGE  W.  CHIPMAN,  AT 
SEVENTY. 

' ''  I  ^  IS  fitting  thus  to  honor  the  man  of  threescore 
■1-       years  and  ten. 

Who  has  fulfilled  his  mission  nobly  among  the  sons 
of  men,  — 

Like  a  warrior,  safe  returning  from  a  hundred  well- 
fought  fields, 

Like  a  reaper,  with  his  arms  full  of  the  sheaves  good 
tillage  yields. 

Some  silver  hairs  are  creeping,  one  by  one,  among  the 

brown  ; 
'T  is  always  so  when  the  angels  set  to  weaving  glory's 

crown, 


48  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Like  the  great  sun  in  heaven,  when  it  nears  the  hori- 
zon's rim  ; 

Nor  is  his  natural  force  abridged,  nor  his  peerless  sight 
grown  dim. 

So  a  tall   cathedral   pillar,  planted   firm   by   ancient 

hands, 
So  a  tree  amid  the  forest,  braving  storm  and  tempest, 

stands ; 
So  the  lighthouse,  sending  forth  its  rays  across  the 

billowy  foam. 
Unmoved   while   the  generations   pass,  guides   many 

a  pilgrim  home. 

Where  are   the  children   he  once   knew  ?     Methinkfc; 

the  birds  are  flown, — 
The  lisping  girls  are  matrons;    the  boys,  gray-beard 

men  are  grown  ; 
The  old  nests,  or  others  like  them,  on  the  old  branches 

hang, 
And  the  younger  broods  still  warble  as  the  birds  of  old 

time  sang ; 
And  the  eye  that  saw,  the  voice  that  led,  the  heart 

that  loved  their  trill. 
Though  fifty  springs  have  vanished,  sees  them,  leads 

them,  loves  them,  still. 
How  the  many  earlier  reapers  from  the  field  of  toil 

have  passed, 
And  memory  round  their  absent  forms  has  its  mantle 

of  glory  cast ! 
They  passed  as  the  twilight  passes  into  the  noontide 

ray. 
As  the  morning  star  is  melted  in  the  light  of  glowing 

day. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  49 

The  pastors  whom  he  loved  and  helped,  —  some  still 
reap  earth's  harvests  white ; 

Some,  glorified,  walk  with  the  Lamb  on  high,  in  raiment 
of  dazzling  light. 

Thank  Cfod,  as  suns  at  setting  shed  their  glow  on  each 
purple  hill, 

One  orb,  that  shone  at  morn  and  noon,  in  its  bright- 
ness lingers  still. 

A  Nestor,  in  the  field  he  tilled,  we  cannot  think  him  old ! 

No  ice  has  chilled  his  tropic  heart,  no  rust  forms  on 
the  gold. 

His  step  is  yet  firm  ;  his  hand  is  strong ;  his  mellow 

voice  still  rings. 
He  speaks,  —  men  listen  to  his  word ;  he  moves,  as  if 

with  wings. 
Erect  his  form,  and  on  his  face  not  a  channel  left  to 

show 
How  the  glaciers  of  olden  time  slid  down  mto  the 

valleys  below. 
His  bright  meridian  sun,  perchance,  down  towards  the 

horizon  dips. 
But  sinks  behind  no  shadowing  cloud,  is  hid  by  no 

eclipse ; 
As  new  year  follows  new  year,  and  day  wakens  after 

day. 
Onward,  and  upward,  upward  still,  it  holds  its  shining 

way ; 
And  setting,  like  the  orbs  of  night  behind  the  darken- 
ing w'est. 
When  the  hours  of  noble  toil  have  earned  the  fitting 

hours  of  rest. 
It  will  set,  alone  to  this  lower  sphere,  but,  by  a  law 

sublime. 

Set  only  to  rise  in  glorious  light  in  a  far  brighter 

clime. 

4 


50  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


LYMAN  JEWETT,  D.D,  ON  HIS   SEVENTY- 
FIFTH   BIKTHDAY. 

HONOEED  by  all,  where'er  thy  name  is  heard, 
Beloved  apostle  of  thy  loving  Lord, 
We  greet  thee  gladly  on  thy  festal  day, 
And  gladly  at  thy  feet  our  tribute  lay. 

Honored,  to  sow  the  seed  with  toil  and  tears; 
Honored,  to  reap  for  God  the  joyful  ears ; 
Honored,  to  pray  the  prayer  of  faith  and  love  ; 
Honored,  to  hear  the  answer  from  above ; 
Honored,  when  wavering  faith,  advised  to  yield, 
Bravely  to  fight  in  front,  and  hold  the  field, 
With  valiant  heart  and  never-flinchmg  eye. 
Foreseeing  Christ  enthroned,  and  victory,  — 
Like  soldiers,  ere  the  battle's  rage  is  done, 
Sending  reports  of  richest  trophies  won, 
Of  armies  slain,  and  hostile  banners  furled. 
Prophetic  emblems  of  a  conquered  world  ; 
Honored,  to  bring  thy  own  despatches  home, 
"  The  battle  gained  !  The  hour  of  triumph  come  ! " 
Honored,  to  see  the  idol-temples  fall, 
And  ransomed  thousands  crown  the  Lord  of  all ; 
Honored,  in  lonely  trust,  with  wearing  toils. 
To  heap,  at  Jesus'  feet,  uncounted  spoils 
Till  "  the  Lone  Star,"  on  heaven's  immortal  blue, 
At  last,  a  brilliant  constellation  grew. 

0  meek  apostle,  what  rare  bliss  is  thine  ! 
What  toils,  what  triumphs,  in  thy  lot  combine  ! 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  51 

Wise,  to  discern  the  task  thy  Lord  had  given  ; 
Faithful,  to  point  the  weeping  eye  to  heaven ; 
Grand,  a  whole  world  in  arms  of  love  to  embrace  ; 
Patient,  to  fill,  and  grace,  the  humblest  place ; 
Waiting,  from  youth  to  age,  life's  mystery. 
And  prompt,  unquestioning,  Lord,  to  follow  Thee. 

E'en  now  the  light,  that  fills  the  world  of  bliss, 
Shines  o'er  the  battlements  to  illumme  this  ; 
The  crowns,  the  crowns,  almost  thy  eyes  can  see, 
Bought  by  atoning  blood,  faith's  mystery  ! 
Songs  of  the  ransomed  thou  canst  almost  hear,  — 
Their  lofty  melodies  awake  thine  ear ; 
And  earth,  redeemed,  the  glorious  pai'an  sings, 
In  mighty  measures,  to  the  King  of  kings. 

Should  thy  dear  life  a  rounded  century  see, 
Thy  feet  three-fourths  have  trod  towards  immor- 
tality. 

March  8,  1888. 


TO    DEACON    J.   W.    CONVERSE,    ON    HIS 
EIGHTIETH  BIRTHDAY. 

HAIL  !  friend   and  brother,  on   this  bright  birth- 
day ! 
Bright   in   its    thoughts,   its  memories,    hopes,  and 
feeling ; 
The  years  have  scarcely  tinged  thy  locks  with  gray, 
Thy  honored  age  revealing,  yet  concealing. 


52  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

O'er  what  long,  winding  ways  tliy  steps  have  trod  1 
What  varied  cares  and  trusts,  successive  pressing, 

Have  taught  thee,  leanmg  on  the  arm  of  God, 
The  rugged  path  becomes  the  path  of  blessing  ! 

What  changes  to  thy  wondering  eyes  have  come ! 

A  scroll  of  miracles,  slowly  unfolding,  — 
Some,  grandly  understood ;  mysterious,  some,  — 

But  one  dear  Hand  above,  thy  own  hand  holding. 

And  yet,  so  quick  thy  step,  so  lithe  thy  frame. 
The  tell-tale  years  seeming  so  little  weighty, 

Thy  buoyant,  youthful  vigor  still  the  same,  — 
It  might  be  but  eighteen,  instead  of  eighty. 

Sheltered  and  guided  by  that  Power  above 
To  reverend  age,  up  from  the  infant's  prattle ; 

Living  for  Christ's  dear  cause  a  life  of  love ; 
Honored  to  dare  and  do  in  life's  great  battle. 

'T  is  thine  to  bring  forth  fruit  still,  even  in  age,  — 
Thou  to  whom  fruitful  years  have  long  been  granted. 

Like  trees,  still  verdant  'mid  the  winter's  rage. 
Like  the  rich  palms  in  God's  own  garden  planted. 

The  years  roll  on  ;  so  from  the  mountain-thread 
Swells  and  expands  the  deepening,  widening  river ; 

So  life  grows  onward  from  its  infant  seed. 
Broadening,  prophetic  of  the  grand  forever. 

Long  may  thy  well-strung  bow  in  strength  abide ; 

And  far  the  day,  thou  to  whom  much  is  given, 
Ere  the  celestial  gates  shall  open  wide 

To  add  to  all  the  crown  of  life  in  heaven. 

January  11,  1888. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  53 


A  GOLDEN  WEDDING  SONG. 

REV.   AND  MRS.   W.   C.   RICHARDS,    1841. 

BLEST  are  these  years  of  wedded  love,  — 
Gifts  which  attest  God's  loving  hand, 
Bright  years  in  all  their  varied  course, 
Like  streams  that  ghde  o'er  golden  sand. 

These  fifty  years,  —  so  long,  so  short. 
Ten  thousand  blessings  in  their  train, 

Fraught  with  unnumbered  passing  joys,  — 
Well  might  we  live  them  o'er  again  ! 

The  wedding  song  of  love  we  sung,  — 
To-day  revives  the  sweet  refrain  ; 

Love  is  undying  in  its  source  ; 

Bridegroom  and  bride,  we  live  again. 

And  who  are  these  in  stalwart  frame ; 

And  these  arrayed  in  sunny  curls  ? 
"  Our  children,  and  their  children  fair,  — 

Pledges  of  love,  our  boys  and  girls." 

How  blest  the  way  thy  feet  have  trod, 
Brother,  to  whom  the  trust  was  given  ; 

To  feed  the  happy  flock  of  God, 

And  guide  the  wanderer's  steps  to  heaven. 

Nor  this  alone  ;  the  world  to  thee, 

Has  opened  all  its  secret  heart, 
And  taught  her  wonders  to  explore,  — 

A  miracle  in  every  part. 


54  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Happy  the  pair  whose  gracious  lives 
In  long  enduring  love  combine  ; 

His,  the  firm  trellis  for  support, 

And  hers,  the  sweet  and  clustering  vine. 

The  fire  by  night,  the  cloud  by  day. 
Guided  and  kept  the  loving  twain  ; 

And  storms  that  swept  the  desert  path 
Fell  round  their  tent  like  gentle  rain. 

Long  may  the  bow  abide  in  strength ! 

Oh,  linger  long  thy  peaceful  days ; 
Let  life  be  one  long  wedding  feast. 

And  its  whole  course,  a  psalm  of  praise  ! 

Sing  on,  sweet  singer,  while  the  years 
Add  to  thy  honors  and  thy  fame ; 

Till  heaven,  on  some  far  distant  day, 
Bids  to  the  wedding  of  the  Lamb. 


»cij*;o« — 

A  GOLDEN  WEDDING. 

DR.  AND  MRS.  J.  W.  PARKER. 

FIFTY  full  years  !  —  how  fair  and  grand  the  record ! 
Fifty  full  years  !  with  every  virtue  rife  ; 
Sweetly  and  sacredly  bound  to  each  other, 
A  faithful  husband  and  a  faithful  wife  ! 

Bound  to  each  otlier  in  devout  affection. 
Witnessed  by  loving  lives  and  loving  word ; 

Made  nobly  one  by  heaven's  divine  selection,  — 
One  in  each  other,  one  in  Christ  their  Lord ! 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  55 

Bound  to  each  other,  whether  joy  or  sorrow, 

Sickness  or  health,  prevailed,  sunshine  or  shade  ; 

Skilful  from  good  or  ill  some  boon  to  borrow, 
Each  on  the  other's  arm,  both  on  God  stayed. 

Dear  herald  of  the  everlasting  gospel ! 

Filled  with  the  grateful  memories  of  the  past, 
Thanks  that  thy  other  self,  like  God's  fair  angel, 

Is  spared  to  hover  round  thee  to  the  last. 

The  last !    Oh,  no,  earth's  last  is  heaven's  beginning  ! 

Earth's  ties,  dissevered,  are  but  joined  above ; 
Earth's  service  changed  to  service  without  sinning. 

And  earth's  imperfect,  to  heaven's  perfect  love. 

Ye  have  walked  nobly  through  these  earthly  shadows, 
As  years  to  years  were  added,  sun  by  sun. 

Weaving  the  threads  of  life,  or  dark  or  shining, 
Still  one  in  heart,  —  in  love  and  purpose  one. 

God's  choicest  blessings  o'er  your  heads  will  hover. 
Till  the  brave  warrior  wears  the  conqueror's  crown. 

Till  the  tired  reaper  in  the  gathering  evening, 
Eeleased  from  toil,  shall  lay  the  sickle  down. 

Then  shall  earth's  fifty  years,  at  heaven's  bright  portal. 
No  more  a  symbol,  marred  by  life's  dull  fever, 

Expanding,  change  into  the  joy  immortal. 
Arid  souls,  now  one  on  earth,  be  one  forever. 


56  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


MRS.  JOSEPH  W.  PARKER,  LOS  ANGELES,  CAL, 
ON  HER  EIGHTY-THIRD  BIRTHDAY. 

DID  I  hear  you  say,  "  'T  is  eighty  "  ? 
Methinks  it  cannot  be  ; 
I  see  no  frosts  nor  snowflakes 

Gathered  on  the  sunny  tree ; 
There  are  only  white-browed  pansies, 

Not  a  snowdrift  to  be  found. 
Oh,  the  snows  are  all  white  rose-leaves 
Which  flutter  o'er  the  ground  ! 

Did  you  tell  me,  "  Eighty  spring-tides, 

With  their  tender  buds,  have  passed," 
And  how  you  watch  expectant, 

The  fading  of  the  last  ? 
I  only  see  the  blossoms, 

And  hear  the  sweet  birds  sing, 
Prophetic  of  the  beauty 

Of  the  immortal  spring. 


Do  you  whisper,  "  Eighty  summers 

With  their  grace  and  glow  have  fled  "  ? 
Do  you  mourn  the  early  blossoms. 

Now  sleeping  with  the  dead  ? 
'T  is  but  a  mortal  counting. 

That  dotes  on  tide  and  clime ; 
Your  youthful  heart  is  weaving 

Summer  garlands  all  the  time. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  67 

Do  you  tell  me,  "  Ei^'hty  autumns 

Have  heaped  their  harvests  in, 
And  the  wintry  winds  conic,  blowing, 

Where  the  waving  crops  have  been  "  ? 
You  are  reaping,  gentle  lady, 

Richest  harvests,  day  by  day ; 
The  fruits  of  your  briglit  seed-time 

Ever  press  your  pilgrim  way. 

As  the  glad  sun  approaches, 

And  all  the  stars  grow  dim, 
The  fringe  of  coming  glory 

Lights  up  the  horizon's  rim  ; 
And  the  dear  Hand  that  guided. 

Till  the  tale  became  fourscore, 
Never  weary,  never  fainting. 

Will  be  sure  forevermore. 

Yes,  't  is  eighty, —  truly,  eighty  ! 

How  swiftly  the  seasons  glide  ! 
'T  is  eighty,  —  more  than  eighty,  — 

And  three  happy  years  beside  ! 
Why  should  we  wish  them  fewer,  — 

The  years  that  God  has  given  ? 
The  more  the  finished  years  of  earth, 

The  nearer,  rest  and  heaven. 

Janitart,  1893. 


58  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


GEOEGE  C.  L0EIMEE.1 

BEOTHEE  and  friend,  with  joy  we  meet 
Thy  welcome  form  at  home  again  ; 
With  joy  thy  honored  face  we  greet, 
Like  the  glad  rainbow  after  rain. 

Not  as  a  stranger  in  the  fold. 
Not  as  a  hireling  for  the  flock. 

Thy  well  known  call  sounds  as  of  old ; 
The  ancient  key  just  fits  the  lock. 

Come  as  a  soldier  from  the  field. 

From  battles  fought  and  victories  won,  — 

Thy  old  commission  newly  sealed, 
A  fresh  and  grand  campaign  begun. 

Come  'neath  the  banner  of  the  Cross ; 

The  Prince  of  life  shall  lead  the  way, 
Marshal  the  troops,  or  gain  or  loss, 

His  Arm,  resistless,  wins  the  day. 

So,  in  the  tide  of  ripening  life, 

The  warrior  yearns  to  tread  again. 

And  bless,  the  fields  of  mortal  strife,  — 
The  peaceful  bivouac  of  the  slain. 

We  know  thee  well ;  our  throbbing  hearts 
In  ardent  love  respond  to  thine,  — 

The  new  love,  like  the  former,  starts 
From  the  one  Eoot  of  Life  Divine. 

At  Reception  on  his  return  to  Tremont  Temple,  May  28,  1891. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  59 

Thy  star  will  sufrer  do  eclipse, 

If  God  thy  burning  words  inspire  ; 
We  trust  iu  Him  to  touch  thy  lips, 

Dear  prophet,  with  His  hallowed  fire. 

March  on,  march  on,  triumphant  band, 

Obedient  to  your  Leader's  call ! 
Wave  the  red  banner  o'er  the  land. 

And  crown  the  Saviour  Lord  of  all ! 


c>o=:c 


ADONIRAM  JUDSON  GORDON.^ 

ON  THE  TWENTY-FIFTH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  HIS  PASTORATE 
AT  CLARENDON  ST.,  BOSTON,   DECEJIBER,  26  1894. 

SHEPHERD  and  Heavenly  Friend, 
Almighty  to  defend 
Thy  little  flock, 
In  verdant  pastures  fed, 
To  living  waters  led. 
We  cling  to  Thee  our  Head. 
Our  sheltering  Rock. 

Our  shepherd  heeds  Thy  voice,  — 
The  shepherd  of  our  choice. 

The  proved,  the  tried ; 
Strong  to  obey  Thy  will, 
Thy  service  to  fulfil, 
Our  loving  shepherd  still, 

Our  friend,  our  guide. 

1  Dr.  Gordon  ilieil  on  Saturday,  February  2,  1895  (after  a  brief 
illness),  universally  esteemed  and  honored,  representatives  of  other 
church  organizations,  and  many  religious  and  benevolent  associations, 
joining  iu  a  tribute  to  liis  memory  and  character. 


60  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Kept  near  Thy  gracious  side, 
Long  may  his  arm  abide, 

Strong  in  Thy  miglit ; 
Speak  through  his  lips  that  word 
Wliich  listening  chaos  heard, 
And  all  its  depths  were  stirred, 

"  Let  there  be  light." 

Head  of  the  Church,  to  Thee 
Immortal  glory  be,  — 

We  wait  Thy  word  ! 
Thy  glorious  kingdom  bring, 
Bid  heaven's  great  anthem  ring  ; 
Christ,  Thou  of  kings  art  King, 

Of  lords  art  Lord  ! 

Decbmbeb  12, 1894. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  61 


IN   MEMORY   AND   CONDOLENCE. 


WILLIAM    HAGUE,  D.D. 

WE  emulate  the  path  thy  feet  have  trod, 
Brother,  beloved  of  men,  approved  of  God ; 
Thou  of  the  brilliant  speech  and  silver  tongue, 
On  thy  dear  lips  have  wondering  thousands  hung. 
Preacher  and  pastor,  —  faithful,  polished,  mild, 
A  man  in  stature,  and  in  love,  a  child, 
Whose  look  was  eloquence,  his  words,  a  power, 
His  life  a  magic  force,  his  faith,  a  tower, 
His  memory  vast,  an  unexhausted  store, 
His  soul,  a  volume  of  historic  lore ; 
Man  of  the  people,  whom  he  swayed  at  will, 
Man  of  the  study  and  the  polished  quill,  — 
All  good  he  praised ;  he  pitied  where  he  scorned, 
And  wise,  as  just,  whate'er  he  touched,  adorned. 
Skilful  expounder  of  the  sacred  word. 
Quick  to  discern,  prompt  to  reveal  his  Lord, 
Profound  in  thought,  wise  to  observe  the  times. 
His  mind,  capacious,  could  embrace  all  climes, 
Lived  in  all  ages,  took  in  land  and  sea, 
The  past,  the  present,  and  the  yet-to-be  ; 
His  fervent  heart  no  years  could  make  grow  cold, 
And  age,  advancing,  never  made  him  old. 
To  the  old  standards  of  the  Gospel  true. 
Nor  spurned  the  old,  nor  pined  for  doctrines  new  ; 
Maintained  the  ancient  truth  with  courage  bold,  — 
That  truth,  forever  new,  forever  old ; 
And  as  he  died,  —  heeding  the  Master's  call,  — 
Pronounced  that  truth  enougli  for  him,  fur  all. 


62  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

How  nobly  fitting  was  the  parting  hour : 

One  pulse,  the  bud,  —  the  next,  the  full-blown  flower ; 

One  instant,  here,  —  the  next,  beyond  the  skies ; 

Now,  earth's  high  noon,—  now,  noon  in  Paradise. 

This  moment,  bound  by  human  woes  and  bars. 

The  next,  in  peerless  light,  beyond  the  stars ; 

From  earth's   high   summer   snatched,  and  blooming 

bowers. 
To  heaven's  immortal  glow  and  fadeless  flowers ; 
Now,  on  the  threshold  of  the  temple  here, 
Now,  bowed  before  its  inmost  altar  there ; 
With  what  strange  joy  the  conqueror  upward  rode, 
To  worship,  reverent,  at  the  throne  of  God  ! 

Ascended  brother,  may  the  mantle  blest. 

That  fell  from  thee,  on  many  a  prophet  rest ; 

Thy  trumpet  voice  still  sound  the  loud  alarm. 

Thy  magic  notes  linger,  to  rouse  and  charm. 

And,  Heaven's  high  heralds.  Heaven's  high  service  done, 

Achieve  the  honors,  brother,  thou  hast  won. 

September  26,  1887. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  63 


GARDNEE  COLBY. 

The  Legislature  of  Maine  changed  the  title  of  Waterville  College 
to  that  of  Colby  University,  January  23d,  1867,  in  honor  of  Gardner 
Colby,  of  Ne\vton,  Massachusetts,  who  ct)ntributed  850,000  towards  its 
endowment,  and  afterwards  increased  the  amount  by  a  bequest  of 
$120,000. 

PASSED  from  our  sight,  but  grandly  living  still,  — 
As  glows  the  light  behind  the  western  hill 
When  towering  summits  hide  the  vanished  sun, 
And  the  long  course  of  weary  day  is  run ; 
The  disk  concealed,  the  brightness  backward  turns, — 
For  other  lands  the  same  full  radiance  burns. 
A  noble  life,  cut  off,  still  journeys  on,  — 
A  trail  of  light  behind  it,  —  when  't  is  gone,  — 
And  life  before, —  a  faithful  life's  reward,  — 
A  joy  to  earth,  —  and  ever  with  the  Lord  ! 

We  hail  thee,  brother,  favored  now  to  see. 

Unveiled  at  last,  life's  doubt  and  mystery  : 

What  fields  thy  works  have  blessed  ;  what  conquests, 

won, 
Attest  the  worthy  deeds  thy  hands  have  done  ; 
What  hungry  mouths  thy  willing  love  has  fed ; 
What  souls  enjoyed,  through  thee,  the  living  Bread; 
To  what  rich  seeds  thy  life  has  given  wings,  — 
Sheaves  for  the  garner  of  tlie  King  of  kings  ; 
What  halls  of  learning,  fostered  by  thy  care, 
Have  nurtured  men  whose  lips  are  trained  to  bear 
To  nations  bom,  and  nations  yet  to  be. 
Tidings  of  life  and  immortality. 


64  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Dost  thou,  from  heaven,  the  honest  praise  disclaim. 
Caring  no  more  for  earth  or  earthly  fame  ? 
Not  for  thyself  we  weave  these  honored  bays, 
Yet  for  thyself,  and  for  the  Saviour's  praise. 
All  that  was  great  in  thee,  we  cherish  still. 
All  that  accorded  with  the  Master's  will ; 
Thousands  the  lessons  of  thy  life  shall  read,  — 
The  kind  in  word  ;  the  generous  in  deed ; 
The  ready,  helpful  hand  ;  the  open  heart ; 
The  soul  to  feel ;  the  tender  tear  to  start ; 
The  wealth  of  hand  and  brain  to  yield  supply 
To  every  worthy  work,  or  low,  or  high, 
Accounting  nothing  small  which  God  deems  great. 
So  prompt  to  act,  so  patient,  too,  to  wait. 
Holding  of  right  with  men  an  honored  seat. 
But  laying  all  things  at  the  Master's  feet. 

Long  will  his  memory  live  in  many  a  land, 
Long  the  foundations  which  he  planted  stand  ; 
And  grateful  thousands  shall  with  glad  acclaim 
Breathe  from  full  hearts  their  blessings  on  his  name. 

We  leave  thee,  brother,  and  our  way  pursue. 
Patient  to  bear,  and  prompt,  like  thee,  to  do ; 
Be  ours,  like  thine,  through  grace  the  victory  won, 
And  ours,  like  thine,  the  Master's  glad  "Well  done  ! " 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  65 

REV.   ISAAC   BACKUS, 

ON  UNVEILING  A  MONUMENT  TO  HIS  MEMORY. 

SACRED  the  ground  we  tread,  — 
Where  sleep  the  pious  dead, 
Supremely  blest ; 
Their  honored  course  is  run, 
The  crown  of  victory  won, 
Bright  as  the  glorious  sun, 
In  Christ  they  rest. 

Blest  be  the  man  of  God 
Who  once  these  pathways  trod 

In  Christ's  own  way ; 
His  faith  as  noontide  clear, 
He  sought  in  holy  fear 
The  Master's  voice  to  hear, 

And,  glad,  obey. 

Here  in  this  solemn  shade 
(Tribute  too  long  delayed), 

This  shrine  we  rear ; 
And  carve  his  reverend  name, 
Worthy  immortal  fame;  — 
His  holy  labors  claim 

Such  record  here. 

Mark  well  each  lowly  grave 
Where  rest  the  true  and  brave. 

Till  morn  shall  break  ; 
Peaceful  in  Cln-ist  they  sleep, 
Heaven  will  their  memory  keep. 
Till  from  their  slumbers  deep, 

Joyful,  they  wake. 

Mabcb  10,  1893. 


66  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


A  LOVING  BEQUEST. 

On  the  unveiling  of  a  portrait  of  a  lady  who  devised  funds  for 
building  a  church  at  Mattapan,  Massachusetts. 

LIVING,  she  loved  the  house  of  prayer ; 
Loving,  she  lived  to  plant  it  here, 
And  left  what  love  could  well  afford, 
A  noble  offering  to  her  Lord. 

No  better  monument  could  tell 
What  her  heart  loved,  and  loved  so  well,  — 
Such  holy  love  breathed  in  her  breath, 
Lived  in  her  life,  survived  her  death. 

Though  marble  piles  in  dust  decay. 

And  human  glory  melts  away, 

Her  gift  abides  in  sins  forgiven, 

In  souls  redeemed,  and  heirs  of  heaven. 

Blessings  be  on  this  favored  spot,  — 
No  act  of  love  shall  be  forgot ; 
And  Christ's  approving  word  shall  be. 
She,  what  she  could,  has  done  for  me. 

May  8,  1889. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  67 


MARY  POND. 

On  a  tomb  at  Dresden,  I  read  these  words  :  "  Fell  asleep,  Septem- 
ber 18,  1874." 

YES,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  but  sleep  implies  two  wakings 
One  in  the  weary  past,  one,  yet  to  be ; 
One  in  this  life  of  labor  and  heart-breakings. 
One  in  the  bliss  of  immortality. 


Yes,  "fell  asleep,"  —  tired  watch  no  longer  keeping. 
With  ever  restless  hands  and  busy  brain  ; 

All  sorrow  past,  —  no  grief,  no  sigh,  no  weeping. 
Like  a  sweet  summer  evening,  after  rain. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  no  more  with  dim  surmising. 
Questioning  what  may  l)e  the  life  to  come  ; 

She  feels,  in  the  freed  spirit's  glad  uprising, 
Joy,  peace,  rest,  grandeur,  glory,  heaven,  home. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  we  watch  for  her  low  breathing, 
Like  fragrant  night-winds  Hoating  gently  by  ; 

Like  noiseless  clouds  of  incense,  upward  wreathing. 
Her  spirit,  silent,  points  us  to  the  sky. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  the  touch  of  those  dear  fingers 

Created  life  and  beauty  where  it  fell ; 
Around  her  cherished  works  her  spirit  lingers, 

Like  strains  of  music  o'er  the  quivering  shell. 


68  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  so  early  quenched  life's  fever, 
So  brilliant  promise  clouded  o'er  so  soon ; 

Faith,  be  thou  strong  ;  God's  purpose  faileth  never ; 
Earth  had  the  radiant  morning  ;  heaven,  the  noon. 

Man  gathers  heaps  of  ore,  a  grasping  miner. 

Toiling  and  burdened  through  the  scorching  day, 

But  sleeps  at  last ;  and  God,  the  great  Eefiner, 
Saves  all  the  gold,  and  melts  the  dross  away. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  just  as  the  curious  kernel 
Of  flower-life  hides  within  the  rigid  grain ; 

But,  with  thq  warm  breath  of  the  season  vernal, 
It  waves  luxuriant  o'er  the  fields  again. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  resting  in  God's  safe  keeping. 

So  hides  the  worm  within  his  narrow  cell. 
But  bursts  his  chrysalis,  and,  heavenward  leaping. 

Shining,  proclaims  that  God  does  all  things  well. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  0  rest  divine,  immortal ! 

Knowing  nor  pain,  nor  grief,  nor  death,  nor  sin  ; 
Best  that  conveys  the  soul  to  heaven's  high  portal, 

And  bids  the  weary  wanderer  enter  in. 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  0  mystery  past  our  knowing ! 

Beyond  thick  clouds  we  cannot  see  the  sun  ; 
But  patient,  trustingly,  we  wait  Heaven's  showing, 

'T  is  God's  own  hand,  —  thy  will,  0  Lord,  be  done. 

Dresden,  October  7,  1875. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  69 


BLIND   ANNA." 


WE  are  all  like  blind  men  groping  in  the  dark,  — 
we  cannot  see ; 
The  lives  we  here  are  living  are  full  of  mystery. 
How  the  plans  of  God  are  working,  we  strive  in  vaia  to 

tell; 
But  faith  can  safely  trust  Him,  for  He  doeth  all  things 
well. 


His  Providence  leads  wisely,  like  the  pillared  cloud  and 

flame; 
And   so   on   every  milestone   we   record  His  blessed 

name. 
All  the  happy  Ebenezers  His  love  and  praises  tell : 
His   arm  has  never   failed  us ;   He  doeth  all  things 

well. 

If  the  keen,  sharp  eye  can  see  Him,  as  sees  the  soaring 

lark ; 
If,  blinded,  through  His  wisdom,  we  only  trace  Him  in 

the  dark, 
In  the  glowing,  glorious  noontide,  or  in  the  deepest 

cell,  — 
We  will  trust  Him,  we  will  love  Him,  for  He  doeth  all 

things  well. 

If  the  blessed  light  is  darkened,  if  the  eye  is  dull  and 

blind,  — 
'T  is   ordered    by  a    Father   who    is   ever    good   and 

kind. 


70  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

His  purpose  is  in  mercy,  though  His  plan  He  does  not 

tell, 
Wait   till  the  seal  is  broken ;   He   doeth   all    things 

well. 

There  's  a  world  where  all  that  tries  us  shall  be  made 

divinely  clear. 
The  eye  no  more  be  sightless,  no  longer  deaf  the  ear ; 
The  day  shall  rise  in  glory,  —  why  should  the  heart 

rebel  ? 
God  sees,  and  we  shall   see   Him,  for   He  doeth  all 

things  well. 

Chicago,  January,  1893. 


o)*;o 


BLOSSOMING   ON   THE   OTHER   SIDE. 

OH,  weep  not,  ye  whose  child  hath  won 
A  dwelling  in  yon  glorious  sphere. 
Where  sin  is  past,  and  labor  done ; 
'T  is  better  than  to  linger  here  ! 

Oh,  weep  not,  ye  whose  offspring  wears 
A  heavenly  crown  upon  her  brow, 

Whose  hand  a  harp  of  worship  bears, 
Who  sings  the  angelic  anthem  now  ! 

Oh,  weep  not,  ye  whose  child  hath  passed 
Thus  early  from  earth's  tempting  scene ; 

In  heaven,  temptation's  furious  blast 
Can  never  reach  the  soul  again  ! 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  71 

Oh,  weep  not,  ye  whose  child  liath  soared, 

A  seraph,  to  the  worki  al»ove. 
Where  endless  day  is  round  her  poured, 

And  happy  spirits  dwell  in  love  ! 

Oh,  weep  not,  ye  whom  God  hath  left 

To  mourn  a  tie  so  early  riven ; 
She  lives,  —  while  ye  are  thus  bereft,  — 

First  of  your  household,  safe  in  heaven ! 


TO  A  SOEROWING  MOTHER. 

OH,  mourn  not,  fond  mother,  the  joys  that  depart ; 
There  is  comfort  and  peace    for  the  stricken  in 
heart ! 
God  has  taken  the  spirit  that  basked  in  thy  love ; 
The  beautiful  angels  have  borne  it  above. 

The  plant  thou  hast  reared  to  brighten  earth's  gloom. 

Had  fastened  its  roots  in  the  soil  of  the  tomb. 

It  smiled  in  thy  garden,  so  gentle  and  fair ; 

It  has  climbed  o'er  the  wall,  and  is  blossoming  there. 

The  jewel  once  worn  with  pride  on  thy  breast, 

Now  flashes  its  light  in  the  land  of  the  blest ; 

The  rose  is  still  fragrant,  tliough  torn  from  the  stem, — 

The  setting  is  ruined,  but  safe  is  the  gem. 

Then  gird  thee  to  labor,  to  trial,  to  love ; 
The  treasure,  still  thine,  awaits  thee  above. 
Be  faithful,  be  earnest,  night  soon  will  be  riven. 
And  the  lost  one  of  earth,  be  thy  jewel  in  heaven. 


72  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


AGATHA  E.  CLAFLIN. 

IS  thy  final  rest  more  peaceful,  — 
Is  thy  sleep  more  sweet,  dear  child. 
Brought  from  Kome's  gorgeous  sepulchres, 

Back  to  thy  native  wild  ? 
Or  breathes  the  wind  more  gently. 

Where  the  chestnut  and  the  pine 
Above  the  tomb  that  holds  thy  dust 
Their  clustering  branches  twine  ? 

What  was  wanting  in  the  shadows 

Of  old  imperial  Eome, 
That  thou  sighedst,  midst  its  grandeur, 

For  thy  dearer  western  home  ? 
Those  fragrant  airs  and  sunny  bowers,  — 

Could  they  not  weave  a  spell, 
With  power  to  win,  above  the  spot 

Thy  young  heart  loved  so  well  ? 

'T  was  there  the  proud  Jugurtha, 

Subdued  by  famine,  died ; 
But  there,  with  bread  immortal, 

AVas  thy  spirit  satisfied  ? 
He,  in  his  lonely  prison  chained, 

Perished  in  heathen  gloom  ; 
Thou  soaredst  upward,  free  of  wing. 

And  angels  bade  thee  come. 

And  there  a  mightier  warrior 
Waited  his  heavenly  crown. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  73 

Found  a  martyr's  wreath  around  his  brow, 

And  laid  his  armor  down. 
Brave  Christian  souls  in  Koman  soil 

Kepose  in  holy  rest, 
As  sinks  the  gorgeous,  crimson  sun 

In  glory  in  the  west. 


Thy  footsteps  trod  the  pathways 

Of  grand,  historic  Eome  ; 
Thy  gaze,  admiring,  rested 

On  picture,  church,  and  dome. 
Why,  yearning  with  a  tender  love, 

Did  thine  eyes  look  back  to  see 
The  landscape  round  that  cherished  home. 

Where  thy  young  soul  longed  to  be  ? 

Thy  weary  wanderings  ended 

In  a  city  grander  far 
Than  home,  or  Eome,  —  in  heaven,  — 

As  the  sun  outshines  a  star ; 
Earth  on  thy  young  eyes  faded. 

As  fades  a  glittering  toy. 
Bright  opened  on  thy  vision 

Heaven's  home  of  love  and  joy. 

Welcome  again,  fair  sleeper  ! 

Peace  to  thy  precious  dust ! 
Rest  calmly  with  thy  kindred 

Till  the  rising  of  the  just. 
The  winds  shall  sing  above  thee. 

Where  the  chestnut  and  the  pine, 
In  thy  own  dear  native  forests. 

Their  clustering  branches  twine. 


74  POEMS  OF  HOME. 

Thy  life,  too  early  smitten. 

Lingers  around  us  still, 
As  day-beams,  after  sunset. 

Shine,  radiant,  o'er  the  hill ; 
Thy  loving  voice,  still  sounding, 

Forbids  us  to  rebel,  — 
God  gave,  and  God  hath  taken, — 

God,  who  does  all  things  well. 

May,  1874. 


oJOio 


HAERIET  J.  WARDWELL. 

"DROUGHT   home,  where   the  dust   of  her  kuidred 
-*-^     reposes. 

To  sleep  'mid  the  dew,  and  the  breath  of  the  roses, 
In  June,  —  of  all  seasons  the  sweetest  and  fairest, 
Herself,  of  its  blossoms  the  purest  and  rarest. 

She  sleeps  her  last  sleep,  while  all  nature  rejoices. 
And  melody  breaks  from  earth's  thousands  of  voices ; 
Like  distant  sweet  chimes  on  evening  winds  singing, 
The  music  she  breathed  is  in  echoes  still  ringing. 

Life's  silver  cord  loosed,  and  the  golden  bowl  broken,  — 
We  bow  to  the  mandate  Jehovah  has  spoken ; 
God's  promise  proclaims,  o'er  the  loved  and  lamented, 
The  silver  cord,  loosed,  shall  again  be  cemented. 

We  lay  her  in  love  'neath  the  rose  and  the  willow ; 
Peace  sits  by  her  ashes, — Peace  breathes  round  her 
pillow. 


SOCIAL  AMENITIES.  75 

How  well  that  such  graces  and  gifts  should  be  given, 

Like  precious  first  fruits,  an  offering  to  Heaven ! 


God  gave,  and  we  bless  Him ;  God  took,  and  though 

parted, 
Still  trusting,  still  loving,  we  yield,  broken-hearted. 
Again,  in  tlie  home  of  the  blest,  we  shall  greet  her, 
And  youth  bloom  immortal,  when,  joyful,  we  meet  her. 


c>*;c 


EPITAPHS. 

SHORT  was  thy  pilgrimage,  dear  child ; 
Sweet  is  thy  dreamless  rest. 
God  on  thy  homeward  spirit  smiled. 
And  made  thee  early  blest. 


Her  ardent  love,  her  spotless  worth. 
Her  humble  faith  were  given. 

Like  buds  of  promise,  plucked  on  earth. 
To  bloom,  transferred  to  heaven. 


Her  life  to  toil,  her  gains  to  God  were  given  ; 
Sweet  is  her  rest,  and  bright  her  crown,  in  heaven. 


76  POEMS  OF  HOME. 


IN  MEMORY  OF  A  YOUNG  MAIDEN. 

SISTEE,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely, 
Gentle  as  the  summer  breeze, 
Pleasant  as  the  air  of  evening, 
When  it  floats  among  the  trees. 


Peaceful  be  thy  silent  slumber,  — 
Peaceful  in  the  grave  so  low. 

Thou  no  more  wilt  join  our  number ; 
Thou  no  more  our  songs  shalt  know. 

Dearest  sister,  thou  hast  left  us  ; 

Here  thy  loss  we  deeply  feel. 
But 't  is  God  that  hath  bereft  us ; 

He  can  all  our  sorrows  heal. 


Yet  again  we  hope  to  meet  thee. 
When  the  day  of  life  is  iled  ; 

Then  in  heaven  with  joy  to  greet  thee. 
Where  no  farewell  tear  is  shed. 


Paet  II. 
POEMS   OF   COUNTRY. 


pan  IL  — COUNTRY. 


AMERICA. 

Written  February,  a.d.  1832,  and  first  sung  at  a  Fourth  of  July 
Celebration  at  Boston,  the  same  year. 

MY  country,  't  is  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 
Of  thee  I  sing ; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died, 
Land  of  the  pilgrims'  pride, 
From  every  mountain  side 
Let  freedom  ring. 

My  native  country,  thee. 
Land  of  the  noble  free. 

Thy  name  I  love  ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills ; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees 

Sweet  Freedom's  song ; 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake, 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake. 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break. 

The  sound  prolong. 


78  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Our  fathers'  God,  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  Thee  we  sing  ; 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  Freedom's  holy  light ; 
Protect  us  by  Thy  might. 

Great  God,  our  King. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  79 


SCHOOLS  AND   SCHOLARS. 


SENTIMENTAL. 


THE  SEAL  ONCE  LAID   ON  PLIANT  WAX. 

ADDRESSED   TO  A   TEACHER. 

THE  seal,  once  laid  on  pliant  wax, 
Stamps  its  own  image,  cancelled  never ; 
The  teacher's  lineaments  on  the  soul 
Their  vivid  impress  leave  forever. 
Lay  careful  hand  on  head  and  heart 
While  waits  the  youth  at  life's  fair  portal ; 
So  shall  your  work,  in  beauty  wrought. 
Be  beauty,  stamped  with  life  immortal 


o:»:o 


NOTHING  WITHOUT  EFFORT. 

SOME  nice  things,  you  think,  can  be  done  without 
toil, 
As  weeds  grow,  un tilled,  from  the  generous  soil ; 
You  guess  men  in  black,  with  the  cheerfullest  air, 
Eat  bread  without  work,  and  live  without  care ; 
So  happy  they  float,  like  clouds  in  the  blue. 
You  think,  very  likely,  they  've  nothing  to  do 


80  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

But  to  read  pleasant  books  and  court  life  with  the 

Muses, 
While  the  hand  of   the  workman   is   sore   from   his 

bruises. 
But  no  farmer  grows  rich  who  sets  up  for  a  shirk, 
Nor  merchant,  whose  aim  is  to  live  without  work ; 
There  is  labor  more  wearing  than  digging  a  drain,  — 
Oh,  that  some  men  would  try  it,  —  't  is  work  with  the 

brain  ! 

I  '11  tell  you  a  secret,  —  the  song  of  the  poet 

Springs  not  with  a  gush  before  one  can  know  it. 

As  breaks  from  the  fountam  the  tinkling  rill 

And  flows  from  the  side  to  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  thought,  born  to  sliine  in  his  beautiful  strain, 

Lies,  like  gems  to  be  cut,  in  the  depth  of  his  brain  ; 

But  to  clothe  it  with  beauty,  to  point  it  with  wit, 

To  fit  to  each  line  a  shaft  that  will  hit,  — 

To  gather  the  glories,  his  lay  to  enfold, 

From  earth,  air,  and  sea,  from  the  crimson  and  gold. 

That  glow  in  the  path  of  the  opening  day, 

Or  burnish  the  sky  as  the  light  fades  away,  — 

Is  never  the  work  of  a  glance  and  a  dash, 

As  the  fluid-electric  shoots  out  with  a  flash  ;  — 

The  search  for  a  jingle,  the  chase  for  a  rhyme. 

Is  a  toil  to  the  brain,  and  the  labor  of  time. 

As   a   steamer,  —  the   monster,  —  caught   fast  in  the 

narrows. 
Or  striving,  in  summer,  to  pass  over  shallows, 
Drives  fierce  on  her  pathway,  ascending  the  stream, 
But  is  forced  to  fall  back  with  a  shock  and  a  scream. 
To  try  a  fresh  channel,  to  make  a  new  tack. 
Still  foiled  in  her  efforts,  still  doomed  to  push  back, 
Till  at  last,  as  if  borne  by  a  freak  of  good  chance. 
She  floats  o'er  the  shoal,  and  shoots,  with  a  glance. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  81 

To  the  sea  of  deep  water,  and  glides  through  the  tide, 
Where  balmy  winds  kiss  her,  and  navies  might  ride, — 
So,  often,  the  poet,  intent  on  his  chime. 
Seeks,  earnest,  to   match   some   choice   word  with   a 

rhyme ; 
But  bootless  his  efforts,  —  his  search  all  in  vain,  — 
He  backs  off  from  the  shallow  and  tries  a  new  strain, 
Gives   up   the   dear   word  on  which   swung  his  fine 

thought, 
Abandons  the  rhyme,  long  chased,  but  ne'er  caught. 
Creeps  back  through  the  shallows,  —  recasts  his  whole 

plan, 
And,  foiled  where  he  wishes,  he  sails  where  he  can. 
Then  floats,  proud  in  success,  o'er  the  glorious  main. 
Till   the  rhyme-search  shall  ground  him  in  shallows 

again. 
O  wisdom  of  Virgil !  —  the  bard  of  the  ages,  — 
A  wisdom  well  worthy  of  prophets  and  sages, 
No  genius,  untoiling,  to  glory  is  whirled  ; 
"  A  line  in  a  day  "  brings  the  praise  of  the  world. 


oi»io 


WHERE  ARE  THE  BOYS  OF   EARLIER 
YEARS  ? 

"  THE  BOYS."  1 

WHERE  are  the  boys  of  earlier  years, 
Once  known  and  loved  so  well  ? 
Where  childhood's  hopes  and  childhood's  fears, 
0  Muse  of  history,  tell  ? 

1  "Written  for  the  "  Old  School  Boy.«,"  of  Boston. 
6 


82  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Where  are  the  noisy  shouts  that  spoke 

In  wild  joy  on  the  air  ? 
Wliere  are  the  lips,  in  love  wliich  spoke  - 

The  echoes  answer,  Where  ? 

Where  are  the  ready  eye  and  hand 
That  made  our  greetings  sweet  ? 

Parted  long  since,  —  the  choice  old  band, 
Where  will  they  ever  meet? 

Where  are  they  ?    Ask  the  manly  face, 
White  hairs,  and  furrowed  brow ; 

The  veterans,  with  their  antique  grace  — 
The  boys  are  elders  now. 

Eoll  back,  roll  back  Life's  hastening  tide, 
Nor  count  each  passing  year  ; 

Behold,  their  bows  in  strength  abide, 
The  ancient  boys  are  here  ! 


oj<«o 


THE  LADY   AND    THE    POET. 

I  HAVE  read  of  a  poet  whose  minstrelsy  woke 
The  spirit  of  music  in  beautiful  Spain ; 
He  was  urged  by  a  lady,  not  quite  to  his  taste, 
To  write  her  a  sonnet,  —  nor  urged  she  in  vain. 

In  the  noble  Castilian  't  were  easy  to  write, 
From  a  madrigal  down  to  a  funeral  knell ; 

So  this  son  of  the  Muses  proceeded  to  draw 

The  sonnet  she  claimed  from  his  murmuring  shell. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  83 

She  deemed  he  would  glory  her  beauty  to  praise, 
Her  form,  and  her  hair,  and  her  dark  Spanish  eyes ; 

And  her  fancy  was  tilled  with  the  glow  of  his  lays, 
Lighted  up  like  the  rainbow  with  heavenly  dyes. 

But  her  guess  was  at  fault ;  not  a  word  of  her  charms 
Was  allowed  by  the  minstrel  to  smile  on  his  page, 

Not  a  breath  of  true  gallantry  breathed  from  his  lip, 
Not  a  soft  note  of  grace  warbled  forth  from  his  cage. 

But  he  set  for  his  quill  the  ingenious  task 
Of  making  the  sonnet,  in  measure  and  time. 

As  smooth  as  an  eclogue,  as  bald  as  a  stone, 
And  as  empty  of  meaning  as  faultless  in  rhyme. 

The  words  were  consummate  in  number  and  time, 
The  lines  were  as  faultless  as  eye  ever  read; 

The  sonnet  was  perfect,  excepting  alone,  — 

'T  was  just  what  he  purposed,  —  that   nothing  was 
said. 


HOW   BLEST   THE   ART    THAT  LINKS   IN 
SACKED   BONDS. 

PRESERVED  THOUGHTS.^ 

HOW  blest  the  art  that  links  in  sacred  bonds 
The  living  present  with  the  living  past ! 
The  life  of  other  years  to  ours  responds. 

Pulse-beat  to  pulse-beat  thrills,  and  first  to  last. 

The  thoughts  once  breathed  in  prose,  or  rolled  in  song, 
Treasured  in  faithful  records,  sound  again  ; 

Genius  and  love  their  harmonies  prolong, 

And  vanished  souls  converse  again  with  men. 

1  Written  for  the  Dedication  of  the  Maiden  Library. 


84  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

And  books   are   thoughts ;    these    alcoves    fair   shall 
hold, 

Like  rare  and  priceless  gems,  the  sacred  trust. 
When  monumental  piles  and  shrine  of  gold. 

Battered  and  worn,  shall  crumble  into  dust. 

Whose  shall  the  honor  be,  0  history,  say,  — 

When,   passed    from   earth,   the    glorious   thinkers 
sleep,  — 

Their  thoughts,  like  jewels  rescued  from  decay, 
In  fitting  chambers  to  arrange  and  keep  ? 

Thank  God !  such  trusts  to  human  hands  are  given  ; 

Thank  God !  such  trusts  shall  not  be  given  in  vain  ; 
Earth's  clustered  blooms  will  show  fair  fruit  in  heaven, 

Thoughts,  saved  on  earth,  will  shine  in  heaven  again. 

How  blest  the  task,  in  this  short  life  of  ours, 
Life's  loving  work  and  influence  to  extend, 

Clothing  the  mortal  with  immortal  powers. 
Making  all  ages  with  all  ages  blend ! 


oJ<«c 


THE  GENTLE   MUSE  OF  TO-DAY. 

Read  at  a  Reception  at  the  South  Chicago  Study  Club,  at  Mrs- 
Edward  Roby's,  May  10,  1893. 

THE  Muses,  in  the  olden  days,  — 
They  numbered  barely  nine,  — 
'T  was  theirs  to  wake  the  sweetest  lays. 
To  charm  and  to  refine  ; 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  85 

To  teach  the  bliss  of  life  and  love, 

To  make  the  whole  world  briirht. 
Ten  thousand  rills  of  joy  to  start, 

To  shine,  as  shines  the  light. 

But  we,  in  later  times,  have  found 

A  hundred  Muses  more ; 
And  on  each  gentle  Muse  we  meet. 

Our  love  and  praise  we  pour ; 
Each  makes  earth  happier,  life  more  blest, 

Brings  to  our  homes  a  heaven,  — 
Dear  charmers  of  our  secret  hearts, 

The  best  gift  God  has  given  ! 

Ardent,  they  study  to  expand 

The  fields  already  won  ; 
And  in  their  noble  deeds  surpass 

All  that  the  past  has  done ; 
By  pinnacles  of  honor  gained. 

By  summits  grandly  trod, 
They  prove  what  woman  can  attain, 

Inspired  and  helped  of  God. 

We  honor  all  whose  hearts  are  true, 

And  gladly,  proudly,  raise 
The  noblest  trophy  art  can  bring 

Their  glorious  course  to  praise  ; 
A  thousand  blessings  on  them  rest,  — 

Blessings  from  heart  and  hand,  — 
The  Muses  we  delight  to  own, 

They  are  this  fairy  band. 


86  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


ANNIVERSARIES  AND   DEDICATIONS. 


COME  TO   THE  FESTAL  DAY. 

A  HYIVIN  FOR  A  SCHOOL  ANNIVERSARY. 

COME  to  the  festal  day, 
Cheerfully  welcomed,  come ! 
Come  jom  our  songs ;  come  share  the  joy 
That  crowns  our  school  and  home  ! 

Here  have  our  hearts  received 

Treasures  of  holy  truth,  — 
God's  living  words,  —  the  helps  of  age. 

The  loving  guides  of  youth. 

Come,  for  the  rolling  year, 

"With  bursting  buds  and  flowers. 

Summons  the  sower  to  his  toils. 
And  gladdens  us  in  ours  ! 

God's  blessing  cheers  each  task : 

No  work  for  God  is  vain : 
His  is  alike  the  beaming  sun, 

And  His  the  gentle  rain. 

Then  to  our  festal  day 

And  cheerful  greetings,  come ! 

Come  join  our  songs  ;  come  share  the  joy 
That  crowns  our  school  and  home  ! 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  87 


IN   LOVING   FAITH   THIS  STONE   WE  PLACE. 

LAYING   THE  CORNER-STONE,  NORUMBEGA,   WELLESLEY 
COLLEGE. 

IN  loving  faith  this  stone  we  place  ; 
God  is  our  trust,  —  in  Him  we  build  ; 
All  noble  works  through  Him  are  wrought, 
All  life  is  with  His  pulse-beat  thrilled. 

0  Life  of  life !  0  Light  of  light ! 

Our  breath,  our  joy,  our  hope,  our  aim,  — 
We  plant  our  corner-stone,  we  rear 

Our  home,  in  honor  of  Thy  name ! 

In  love  o'er  all  the  work  preside 

As  wall,  and  tower,  and  peak  ascend ; 

And  be  its  crown  of  glory,  Thou,  — 
Earth's  noblest  hope,  life's  highest  end, 

The  broad,  sweet  landscape  at  our  feet,  — 
Forest  and  vale,  and  liill  and  sea,  — 

Reveal  Thy  wondrous  skill  and  power ; 
All  space,  all  time,  are  full  of  Thee. 

So  let  the  building  we  prepare. 
The  house  we  to  Thy  honor  raise. 

Be  a  new  temple  built  for  God,  — 
Forever  vocal  with  His  praise. 

Joke  22,  1885. 


POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


IN   FAITH   THIS   COENEE-STONE  WE  LAY. 

FOR  THE  CORNER-STONE  LAYING,  WORCESTER 
ACADEMY,  1889. 

IN  faith  this  corner-stone  we  lay,  — 
A  tribute  to  fair  Learning's  shrine; 
God  is  our  wisdom,  God  our  stay. 

And  His  the  work  our  thoughts  design. 


We  build  in  faith  for  nobler  years, 

For  generations  yet  to  be ; 
As  every  soul  its  structure  rears 

And  builds  for  immortality. 

Let  children's  children  here  be  trained 
To  love  the  paths  their  fathers  trod, 

To  keep  the  boon  their  fathers  gained, 
To  love  and  trust  their  fathers'  God. 


And  day  by  day  the  walls  shall  grow, 

And  arch,  and  dome,  and  towers  shall  rise, 

As,  slowly,  works  of  love  below 

Tend  to  bright  mansions  in  the  skies. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  89 


NOT  YET  COMPLETE,  —  THE  HALL  WE  EEAR. 

AN  UNFINISHED  MAIN  BUILDING.^ 

NOT  yet  complete,  —  the  hall  we  rear, 
0  Learning,  to  thy  shrine ; 
Not  yet  complete,  —  our  character, 
To  match  the  mould  divine. 

But  wall,  and  architrave,  and  dome,  — 

As  stone  on  stone  we  raise,  — 
A  finished  temple  shall  become, 

Built  for  Jehovah's  praise. 

And  year  by  year  shall  many  a  soul, 

Like  marble  from  the  mine. 
Polished,  and  set,  —  a  perfect  whole,  — 

In  holy  beauty  shine. 

As  arch,  and  pinnacle,  and  spire 

Point  upward  to  the  skies, 
O  living  souls,  grandly  aspire 

To  shine  in  Paradise  ! 


*  Written  for    the  Tenth  Commencement  of  Vermont  Academy, 
Saxton's  River,  Vt.,  June  21,  1888. 


90  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


HYMN  FOE  THE  DEDICATION  OF  A  SCHOOL- 
H0USE.1 

[Tone  :  "  The  Morning  Light  is  Breaking."'\ 

SOW  ye  beside  all  waters 
The  seeds  of  love  and  light, 
And  train  your  sons  and  daughters 

To  wisdom,  truth,  and  right  ; 
Open  fresh  founts  of  beauty 
Along  life's  devious  road ; 
Fashion  the  soul  to  duty, 
And  lead  it  up  to  God. 

Prepare  the  peaceful  bowers 

Where  opening  minds  shall  wake, 
As  rosebuds  into  flowers 

In  blusliing  fragrance  break  ; 
Water  with  skilful  teaching 

The  springing  germs  of  thought, 
Onward  and  heavenward  reaching. 

With  coming  glory  fraught. 

As  priests  of  God  anointed 

To  keep  this  high  behest. 
We  take  the  charge  appointed, 

To  do  such  bidding  blest ; 
Here  shall  new  gems  be  fitted 

With  mild,  fair  light  to  shine. 
The  toil  to  us  committed, 

The  help,  0  God,  is  Thine. 

1  Used  at  the  dedication  of  a  new  building  at  Hebron  Academy, 
Maine,  June,  1891. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  91 


FAIR   SEAT   OF   LEARNING!   WHO   SHALL 
TELL. 

JUBILEE  HYMN  FOR  MOUNT  HOLYOKE  SEMINARY, 
JUNE  23,   1887. 

FAIR  seat  of  learning  !  who  sliall  tell 
The  joy  we  feel  m  greeting  thee 
On  this  glad  day,  thy  festal  day. 
Thy  blessed  day  of  jubilee ! 


O  born  of  faitli  !  0  nursed  in  prayer ! 

What  grateful  throngs  repeat  thy  name  ! 
What  memories,  lingering  round  the  globe, 

With  fervent  blessing  crown  thy  fame  ! 

0  loyal  hearts  !  bring  hymns  of  praise 
To  Him  to  whom  all  praise  is  due ; 

With  loyal  homage  pay  your  vows, 
In  loyal  faith  your  vows  renew. 


Glory  to  Him  who  planned,  who  guides, 
The  years  elapsed,  the  years  to  be ; 

For  His  dear  sake,  in  His  great  name, 
We  keep  our  hallowed  Jubilee. 


92  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


FAIE  WORCESTER 

[Tune  :  "  Fair  Hai-vard."] 

FAIR  Worcester,  enthroned  on  the  hills  in  thy  pride, 
With  the  city-domes  gleaming  below, 
A  gem  on  the  robe  of  a  beautiful  bride, 

Or  a  crown  on  a  beautiful  brow. 
Thy  children  return  to  thy  favorite  halls, 

With  more  joy  than  the  home-flying  dove  ; 
Their  hearts  burn  with  gladness  to  answer  thy  calls. 
As  they  bring  thee  their  tribute  of  love. 

Dear  Muse  of  our  childhood,  dear  guide  of  our  youth. 

To  our  hearts  what  fond  memories  throng ; 
From  thy  chalice  we  drank  the  rich  draughts  of  truth, 

And  our  souls  through  thy  strength  were  made 
strong. 
No  landscape  was  ever  so  fair  to  be  seen ; 

No  such  sunsets  crowned  day's  busy  hours  ; 
No  friends  like  the  friends  of  our  boyhood  have  been. 

And  no  teachers  so  gracious  as  ours. 

0  favored  of  Heaven,  thy  sons  have  engraved 

Their  bright  names  on  the  wreath  of  thy  fame ; 
To  guard  thee  and  guide  thee,  around  thee  has  waved 

God's  broad  pillar  of  cloud  and  of  flame. 
Still  onward  and  upward  pursue  thy  fair  march. 

Like  an  army  with  banners  unfurled ; 
While  God  bends  above  thee  His  covenant  arch. 

And  before  thee  lies  waiting  the  world. 

November  13,  1891. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  93 


FAIR    SUFFIELD,    THY    CHILDREN    RETURN 
TO   THY   HALLS.i 

FAIR  SUFFIELD. 

FAIR  Suffield,  thy  children  return  to  thy  halls, 
As  the  birdlings  ily  back  to  their  nest, 
Delighted  to  welcome  thy  motherly  calls, 

And  to  lean  as  of  old  on  thy  breast ; 
Whatever  our  lot  in  the  future  may  be, 

And  wherever  our  footsteps  may  roam. 
Our  hearts  shall  still  turn  with  all'ection  to  thee, 
And  shall  find  in  thy  bosom  a  home. 

What  lessons  of  wisdom  we  learned  from  thy  lips ! 

What  ambitions  thy  teachings  have  fired  ! 
The  light  of  those  teachings  no  years  can  eclipse. 

Nor  imperil  the  love  they  inspired ; 
Thy  light  has  shone  far  o'er  the  darkness  of  earth, 

Like  the  sunbeams  that  break  from  the  sky  ; 
Thy  prophets  and  heroes  have  honored  their  birth. 

And  their  record  stands  written  on  high. 

Oh,  long  from  thy  seat  on  the  hills,  in  thy  pride, 

Be  thy  glorious  banner  unfurled ; 
There  draw  every  eye  like  a  beautiful  bride, 

And  bring  blessing  and  joy  to  the  world  ! 
The  God  of  our  fathers  establish  thy  state, 

And  His  pillar  of  cloud  and  of  flame 
Defend  thee  and  guide  thee  while  thousands  shall  wait 

To  be  honored  and  called  by  thy  name ! 

^  A  school  song  for  SuflBeld  Literary  Institution,  Conn.,  Jan.  25,  1892. 


94  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


RE-UNIONS. 


HYMN 


FOR   THE  REUNION   OF  ALUMNI   OF  NEWTON   THEOLOGICAL 
INSTITUTION  AT  SARATOGA   SPRINGS,  MAY,  1885. 

TOILEES  from  many  a  distant  field, 
Alike  in  shade  or  sun, 
Each  throbbing  heart  and  beating  pulse 
Beats  as  the  pulse  of  one. 

A  thousand  memories  of  the  past 

Bind  us  in  trust  and  love  ; 
They  make  us  one,  —  one  band  on  earth,  — 

One  here,  and  one  above. 

One  work,  one  Christly  work,  inspires 

The  thoughts  of  every  soul ; 
One  aim,  one  Christly  aim,  makes  one 

The  labors  of  the  whole. 

One  hope,  one  glorious  hope,  relieves 

And  cheers  our  pilgrim  way  ; 
We  see  afar  our  crown,  to  grace 

Christ's  coronation  day. 

And  so  the  men  that  toiled  and  loved 

In  trial,  zeal,  and  pain, 
Redeemed,  shall  find  one  home,  at  last, 

In  Christ  be  one  again. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  95 


HYMN    FOR    NEWTON    THEOLOGICAL 
INSTITUTION. 

[  TcNB  :  Italian  Hymn.] 

DRAWN  to  this  blest  retreat, 
What  hosts,  in  converse  sweet, 
These  paths  have  trod ; 
What  hosts  have  loved  and  prayed. 
And  on  Heaven's  altar  laid 
Their  all,  amid  thy  shades, 
0  mount  of  God! 

One  bond  unites  the  whole,  — 
Breathes,  moves,  one  kindred  soul, 

Our  life,  the  same. 
Our  hopes,  our  aims,  are  one ; 
Christ  is  our  central  sun, 
And  all  our  works  are  done 

In  His  dear  name. 

Our  ears  the  call  have  heard, 
"  Go,  preach  my  saving  word," 

Here,  Lord,  are  we  ; 
Each  in  his  chosen  sphere, 
Ready  the  cross  to  rear, 
Answers,  in  accents  clear, 

"  Here,  Lord,  send  me." 

Behold,  the  nations  wake ! 
Saviour,  Thy  sceptre  take. 

Assume  Thy  throne  ; 
Armed  with  the  prophet's  rod, 
Thy  servants  wait  thy  nod, 
God  over  all,  our  God, 

Come,  reign,  alone  ! 

Davenport,  Iowa,  April  5,  1893. 


96  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


A    SONG    OF    "LANG    SYNE." 

FOR  THE  CLASS  OF  1829. 

WHEN  autumn  blasts  sweep  o'er  the  fields, 
And  slanting  suns  decline, 
How  bright  the  hour  that  gathers  here 
The  Class  of  '29  ! 

How  fair  the  day  when  round  the  heart 
Old  friendships,  hallowed,  twine ; 

Blest  be  the  ties  that  join  in  love 
The  Class  of  '29  ! 

Now  college  days  come  back  afresh,  — 

Secant,  and  curve,  and  sine. 
Logic  and  Latin,  that  imbued 

The  Class  of  '29. 

Homer  and  Hesiod,  Paley,  Brown, 

Anacreon's  love  and  wine, 
And  modern  lore,  that  came  t'  adorn 

The  Class  of  '29. 

Around  our  brows,  once  bright  with  youth. 

Now  age  hangs  out  its  sign ; 
But  nobler  grows  the  fame  which  wreathes 

The  Class  of  '29. 

Then  hand  to  hand,  and  heart  to  heart, 

Like  brothers,  still  combine, 
Till  not  a  name,  unstarred,  shall  mark 

The  Class  of  '29. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  97 


NOT  YET  THE  FROST   OF  AGE. 

HARVARD  CLASS   OF   '29. 


N 


OT  yet  the  frost  of  age, 
Nor  ardent  summer's  rage, 
Nor  history's  burdened  page 
Has  chilled  or  scorched  the  friendships  of  our  youth ; 
Nor  with  a  "  finis  "  ended. 
Life's  stories,  vaguely  blended. 
Which  years  have  comprehended. 
Are  closed  and  bound  and  sealed  with  changeless  truth  ! 

Like  seamen,  when  they  tack, 

Our  eyes  look  gravely  back 

Along  the  lengthening  track. 
Far  to  our  sunny  morn  and  booming  spring ; 

When  with  our  sails  inflated. 

Time's  mingled  cup  untasted. 

On  the  fair  verge  we  waited, 
And  gazed  intent,  to  see  what  life  would  bring. 

From  old  companions  parted, 
The  dear  and  noble-hearted. 
With  whom  the  race  we  started,  — 

Like  weary  steeds,  we  watch  the  setting  sun  ; 
Climbed  are  the  heights  we  sought, 
Our  manhood's  deeds  are  wrought, 
Our  battles  sternly  fought. 

Favored  by  God's  good  grace,  and  victory  won. 

7 


98  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Yet  that  old  fervor  burns, 
Still  the  young  blood  returns, 
Just  as  the  summer  ferns 

Are  green  and  strong  till  falls  the  autumn  blast ; 
So  to  the  clouds  of  even, 
Grouped  in  the  glittering  heaven, 
Ever  new  glow  is  given, 

And  never  are  they  brighter  than  at  last. 

The  dropping  sands  still  fall ; 

From  heaven  new  voices  call ; 

We  claim  them  each  and  all,  — 
The  starred  that  shone,  the  unstarred  names  that  shine. 

Oh,  fewer  still,  and  fewer. 

But  never,  never  truer. 

Just  as  when  life  was  newer,  — 
God  keep  the  unstarred  names  of  "  twenty-nine ! " 

At  Pabkeb's,  Boston,  January  10,  1884. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  99 


•MID  THE  TEMPEST  AND   THE  STRIFE.^ 

HARVARD  CLASS  OF  '29. 

» 1\  /[  ID  the  tempest  and  the  strife, 
iVi     With  stern  heart  and  ready  hand, 
As  when  amid  the  conflict  dire 

Embattled  legions  stand, 
In  a  world  where  bounding  joy 

Comes  alternately  with  tears, 
As  night  dews  follow  noontide  heat,  — 

AVe  have  finished  fifty  years. 

Oh,  l)lissful  were  the  hours 

When,  with  brilliant  hopes  and  young, 
We  launched  our  bark  on  life's  bright  sea, 

And  wooed  the  siren's  tongue, 
And  the  future,  calm  and  fair. 

Stood  undimmed  by  rising  fears  ; 
Alas,  our  hearts  had  yet  to  learn 

The  scenes  of  fifty  years  ! 

But  with  steadfast  eye  and  heart. 

Ever  up  and  onward  led, 
The  joy  of  freedom  round  us  cast. 

Its  light  above  our  head, 
As  shouts  the  pilgrim  from  the  height 

The  towering  mountain  rears,  — 
So  on  the  summit  gained,  we  stand ; 

We  have  finished  fifty  years. 

1  Fonnrlcd  on  the  fact  that  the  members  of  the  Class  of  1829,  with 
two  or  three  exceptions  only,  are  understood  to  be  just  fifty  years 
of  age. 


100  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Now  back  we  turn  to  view 

The  path  our  steps  have  trod, 
And,  yearning,  seek  to  press  again 

With  loving  feet  the  sod, 
And  busy  memory  to  our  souls 

The  fragrant  past  endears  ; 
Yet  comes  that  benison  no  more,  — 

We  have  finished  fifty  years. 

As  the  gray  old  ruin  stands, 

And  verdure  o'er  it  creeps, 
And  clings  in  every  nook  and  seam, 

And  in  silent  beauty  sleeps,  — 
So  round  our  manhood's  heart 

The  bloom  of  youth  appears  ; 
Age  nurtures  these  sweet-trailing  flowers,  • 

We  have  finished  fifty  years. 

We  have  finished  fifty  years ; 

But  our  friendship,  warm  and  true. 
Unchanging,  mocks  the  lapse  of  time, 

Like  heaven's  immortal  blue. 
The  radiant  arch  still  smiles ; 

And  while  faith  the  portal  nears, 
Our  love  outrides  the  storms  of  life,  — 

The  gales  of  fifty  years. 

So  clasp  each  brother's  hand, 

With  a  firm  heart  and  a  brave, 
Strong  to  endure  each  adverse  shock, 

To  breast  each  beating  wave, 
And  light  the  crested  foam  with  joy, 

Howe'er  the  tempest  veers. 
Till  storm  and  conflict,  lulled,  repose 

Beyond  these  mortal  years. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  101 


TRIBUTES. 


TO  MR.   SETH  DAVIS,   SCHOOL-MASTER. 

ON  HIS  ONE  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY. 

HAIL,  honored  master  !  Hail,  thrice-honored  friend  ! 
Before  thy  hundred  years,  we,  reverent,  bend  ; 
Distinguished  praises  for  thy  well-earned  fame 
Our   lips    would   speak,    our  grateful   thought  would 

frame. 
Distinguished  man,  whose  deeds,  so  bravely  done, 
Have  charmed  and  blessed,  in  turn,  both  sire  and  son  ; 
Lone  pillar,  thou,  amid  the  wastes  of  years, 
The  sole  survivor  of  their  joys  and  tears  ; 
Whose  like  our  eyes  will  ne'er  behold  again, 
Grand  and  alone,  —  a  monument  of  men. 

Distinguished,  thou,  dear  man,  above  thy  peers, 

Rich  in  the  circle  of  thy  hundred  years. 

Whose  eye,  undimmed,  has  seen  the  months  decay. 

While  generations  thrice  have  passed  away ; 

Skilful  to  teach,  kind  and  discreet  to  guide, 

Keen  to  discern,  and  honest  to  decide, 

Acute  to  plan,  and  earnest  to  defend  ; 

If  e'er  a  foe  in  seeming,  still  a  friend, 

Training  thy  pupils  to  be  good  and  wise. 

Goodness  lives  ever  ;  wisdom  never  dies. 

Thy  teaching  made  them  men,  both  good  and  great, 

Fitted  to  hold  and  grace  the  chair  of  state  ; 


102  POEMS   OF   COUNTRY. 

Great  for  the  platform,  pulpit,  field,  or  mart, 
But  greatest  in  the  goodness  of  the  heart ; 
As  fruits  that  ripen  'neath  the  genial  sun, 
Beauty  and  richness  yield,  combined  in  one. 

Friend  of  our  early  youth  and  riper  age. 

The  citizen,  the  patriot,  and  the  sage ; 

Blessed  with  an  eye  to  see,  a  hand  to  do, 

A  heart  to  throb,  a  soul  both  large  and  true ; 

Man  of  the  present,  treasury  of  the  past,  — 

How  has  thy  life  been  honored  to  the  last  I 

Of  old  traditions,  thou,  a  matchless  store, 

A  walking  volume  of  historic  lore ; 

Lover  of  Nature  in  its  varied  moods. 

Its  brooks  and  flowers,  its  fields  and  leafy  woods, 

A  thousand  trees,  set  by  thy  loving  care. 

Attest  thy  taste  and  toil,  which  placed  them  there. 

So  on  the  hill,  where  forests  used  to  stand, 
One  tall  old  tree  —  the  monarch  of  the  band  — 
Towers  upward,  all  alone,  in  lofty  pride. 
While  generations,  nourished  at  its  side 
In  gentle  summer  and  in  winter  drear, 
Have  grown  and  fallen  with  every  passing  year,  — 
Each  season  crowns  it  with  luxuriant  leaves. 
Each  autumn  round  it  some  fresh  glory  weaves. 
And  twittering  birds  and  sunbeams  o'er  it  play, 
While  the  old  monarch  suffers  no  decay. 

May  thy  late  years  decline,  0  honored  friend, 
As  setting  suns  their  glowing  colors  blend. 
Peacefully  fading  towards  the  darkening  west. 
Sinking  serenely  to  their  destined  rest. 
Prophetic  of  a  new  and  brighter  day, 
When  years  and  centuries  shall  have  passed  away ! 

September  3,  1887. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  103 


THE   DEPARTED    TEACHER. 

GONE,  but  not  lost !  the  star  of  day, 
Merged  in  the  morning  radiance,  dies. 
But  holds,  unseen,  its  onward  way. 
And  walks  in  glory  through  the  skies. 

The  briUiant  orbs  that  guard  the  night, 
Like  priests  around  their  altar-fires, 

Quenched,  but  not  lost,  a  living  light, 
Are  watching  still,  though  night  retires. 

Gone,  but  not  lost !  the  glowing  sun 

Sinks,  weary,  'neath  the  darkening  west, 

But  tho'  his  daily  race  is  run. 

New  worlds  are  by  his  presence  blest. 

Gone,  but  not  lost !  the  summer's  bloom 
Lies  sleeping  'neath  the  wintry  snow ; 

But  richer  fruits  spring  from  the  tomb, 
From  dark  decay  fair  harvests  grow. 

Gone,  but  not  lost !  who  lives  sublime 
Lives  beyond  life,  he  cannot  die ; 

Born  for  all  years,  for  every  clime, 
His  a  true  immortality. 

We  weep  as,  one  by  one,  we  lay 

Our  brethren  with  the  garnered  host, 

While  gratefully  the  ages  say. 
No  saintly  life  is  ever  lost. 


104  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Farewell,  the  reverend  teacher  sleeps, 
Taken,  alas  !  yet  doubly  given  ; 

His  life  undimmed,  its  pathway  keeps  — 
One  course  alike  in  earth  and  heaven. 

January,  1875. 


3j«iC 


REQUIEM.i 

ANOTHER,  —  yes,  another,  — 
We  are  passing,  one  by  one, 
Like  soldiers,  fallen  in  battle. 
Be  the  conflict  lost  or  won. 
Another,  —  yes,  another, 

Like  an  evening  star,  has  set; 
Behind  the  western  mountains 
The  light  is  lingering  yet. 

Another,  —  yes,  another,  — 

The  friends  of  earlier  days. 
As  melt  the  mists  of  morning 

Amid  the  noonday  haze, 
Life's  golden  harvests,  gathered, 

Pass  on  to  other  spheres  ; 
Life's  early  promise  kindled 

Light  round  their  riper  years. 

Another,  —  yes,  another,  — 

As  ever  on  the  lake 
Wave  follows  wave,  and  shoreward 

Successive  billows  break ; 

1  For  the  Class  Meeting,  Harvard,  '29,  1870. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  105 

Grand  in  the  storm,  but  fairest 

When,  all  the  conilict  o'er, 
In  gentle  ripples  moving, 

They  lave  the  silent  shore. 


Another,  —  yes,  another. 

Torn  from  the  golden  chain. 
Crowned,  after  life's  stern  conilict, 

Another  warrior  slain ; 
With  closer  ranks,  his  valor 

Shall  help  us  dare  and  do  ; 
Shorter  the  chain,  but  stronger,  — 

We  '11  weld  the  parts  anew. 

Another,  —  yes,  another,  — 

We  drop  like  forest  leaves, 
When  the  year's  crown  of  glory 

The  mellow  autumn  weaves  ; 
But  lives  of  love  and  duty 

Sink  to  no  vain  repose  ; 
Sunsets  shed  lingering  radiance, 

Fragrance,  the  dying  rose. 

Another,  —  yes,  another,  — 

The  calls  more  frequent  grow, 
As  whitens  round  our  temples 

More  thick  the  silver  snow ; 
God  of  the  weak  and  weary, 

Light  of  our  joyful  past, 
Guide  us,  support  and  keep  us, 

Till  falls  in  death  the  last ! 


106  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


N.   P.   WILLIS.i 

COME  back  to  be  buried  beneath  the  green  willow, 
Wiiose  long   weeping   branches  trail  over   the 
tomb ; 
The  soil  of  thy  birthplace  prepares  thee  a  pillow, — 
Where  kindled  thy  morn,  for  thy  eve  there  is  room. 

Come  back  to  be  buried,  where  patriarchs  holy 

In  faith  breathed  thy  name  at  the  altar  of  prayer ; 

Come  back,  from  thy  greatness,  to  sleep  with  the  lowly. 
Where  pride  sounds  no  trumpet,  and  fame  is  but  air. 

Come  back  to  be  buried,  where  honor  first  found  thee. 
And  o'er  thee  her  mantle  deliciously  flung ; 

Come  back  with  thy  robe  of  renown  wrapped  around 
thee. 
To  rest  where  thy  garlands  in  youth  o'er  thee  hung. 

Come  back  to  be  buried,  as  blossomings  vernal 

Fall  back  to  the  soil  whence  their  beauty  was  born ; 

As  sunset  clouds  glitter  in  glory  supernal, 

Keturned  from  the  earth  which  they  moistened  at 
morn. 

Come  back  to  be  buried, — but  still  shall  the  crescent 

Of  fame,  early  won,  the  record  illume ; 
As  chaplets  of  love,  made  sempervirescent, 

Are  saved  from  the  night  and  the   damps  of   the 
tomb. 

1  Mr.  Willis  was  born  in  Portland,  passed  his  early  days  in  Boston, 
died  at  Idlewild,  N.  Y.,  Jan.  20,  18G7,  and  cavie  back  to  be  buried  in 
Mt.  Auburn,  Jan.  24. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  107 

Come  back  to  be  buried,  —  mowed  down  by  the  Eeaper, 
Whose    pitiless    scythe   spares   nor    manhood    nor 
bloom  ; 
Come  back  to  be  buried,  0  lone,  silent  sleeper, 

Thy   kindred    await    thee,  —  come,   pilgrim,    come 
home. 


EDWAED   EVERETT. 

MUTE  is  his  eloquence :  that  silver  tongue 
On   whose   sweet   accents    crowds,   admiring, 
hung,  — 
Whose  fitting  words  in  heavenly  beauty  fell 
On  ear  and  heart,  that  owned  the  witching  spell ; 
Whose  graceful  cadence  tides  of  feeling  woke, 
As  if  on  earth  some  loving  angel  spoke,  — 
Now  rests  in  silence,  like  a  harp  unstrung. 
Its  notes,  unrivalled,  on  the  breezes  flung. 
Still  breathe  in  living  echoes  in  the  air. 
As  though  the  master-spirit  lingered  there. 
Who  can  do  justice  to  so  great  a  name  ? 
Who  speak  in  worthy  words  his  matchless  fame  ? 
In  varied  learning  brilliant  and  profound ; 
In  taste  a  model,  and  in  judgment  sound ; 
Above  ambition's  mean  and  shuffling  arts  ; 
Too  great  to  purchase  power  at  public  marts ;  ^ 

In  life  so  pure,  in  motive  so  unstained,  — 
He  trod  with  honor  all  the  heights  he  gained ; 
His  aims  so  worthy,  and  his  powers  so  rare. 
If  first  he  stood,  the  people  placed  him  there. 
As  stands  a  shaft  on  some  far-reaching  plain, 
Rising  o'er  cottage-roofs  and  waving  grain, 


108  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Catching  the  earliest  morning's  crimson  streams, 
And  latest  splendor  of  the  evening  beams, 
Towering  o'er  all,  it  meets  the  distant  sight. 
And  bathes  its  summit  in  the  peerless  light,  — 
So,  in  his  country,  in  his  age,  alone. 
As  in  the  earlier  times  great  Washington ; 
When  foemen  trod  the  stage  with  haughty  stride, 
He  for  his  country  spoke  with  manly  pride. 
Consoled  the  timid,  made  the  fainting  strong, 
Stood  for  the  right,  and  frowned  upon  the  wrong. 
As  some  brave  soldier  waves  his  flag  on  high, 
And  points  his  comrades  on,  to  do  or  die, 
Then  plants  the  banner  on  the  topmost  height, 
Borne  through  the  fiercest  whirlwind  of  the  fight, 
Himself  forgetting,  eager  but  to  see 
His  nation's  struggle  crowned  by  victory,  — 
So  toiled  in  love,  so  stood,  till  evening  set, 
The  ripe,  the  brave,  immortal  Everett. 

Well  at  his  funeral-pomp  did  wreaths  of  green 
Adorn  the  places  where  his  life  had  been, 
And  garlands  deck,  with  sweet  and  cheerful  bloom. 
The  opening  gateway  to  his  honored  tomb. 
The  full-blown  flowers,  of  pure  and  spotless  white, 
Symbols  of  finished  life,  a  life  upright ; 
The  bursting  buds,  of  fresh  and  bright  renown. 
Wreathed  o'er  his  name,  like  an  immortal  crown,  — 
Each  fragrant  blossom  round  the  good  and  brave. 
Telling  how  virtue  lives  beyond  the  grave. 
The  martial  dirge,  with  deep  and  solemn  strain, 
Fell  on  the  ear  as  falls  the  gentle  rain. 
Breathing  o'er  troubled  hearts  a  healing  balm ; 
While  mingling  organ-notes  prolonged  the  psalm, 
As  if  the  twofold  music  had  been  given, 
Symbol  of  closing  earth  and  opening  heaven. 
Thus  when  the  good  man  parts  from  earth  and  time, 
Soaring  from  toil  and  pain  to  joys  sublime. 


SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOLARS.  109 

The  flickering  light  of  such  a  world  as  this 

Melts  iu  the  splendor  of  ecstatic  bliss ; 

The  mortal,  like  the  setting  sunlight,  fades. 

While  glorious  vi-^ions  rise  that  know  no  shades  ; 

And  earthly  music,  as  the  soul  ascends, 

Dies  ou  the  ear,  and  with  the  angelic  concert  blends. 


OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 

IN  MEMORIAM. 

DEAR  master  of  the  tuneful  lyre, 
How  shall  we  breathe  the  word,  "  Farewell  "  ? 
How  shall  we  touch  the  trembling  wire, 
Which  vibrates  with  thy  mystic  spell  ? 

The  world  seems  poor,  of  thee  bereft ; 

The  evening  sky  without  the  sun  ; 
The  setting,  not  the  gem,  is  left ; 

The  frame  remains,  the  picture  gone. 

As  birds  that  float  on  heavenward  wing, 

Unseen,  the  air  with  music  fill,  — 
Singing,  they  soar,  and,  soaring,  sing,  — 

Thy  broken  harp  yields  music  still. 

Life's  golden  bowl  was  dashed  too  soon. 
But  love  still  holds  thy  cherished  name ; 

No  sunset  thine,  but  fadeless  noon ; 
No  shadow,  but  immortal  fame. 


110  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

So  the  dear  chrysalis  we  hide, 

For  God's  safe-keeping,  in  the  tomb  ; 

And,  in  firm  faith  and  hope,  we  bide 
The  dawn  that  breaks  the  silent  gloom. 

Wait  the  fair  day,  the  glorious  hour, 
The  precious  form,  enshrined  in  clay, 

Instinct  with  new-created  power. 

Shall  wake,  and  heaven-ward  soar  away. 

Newton  Centre,  October  18,  1894. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.  Ill 


CIVIC  INTTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS. 


THE  WORLD'S    NEED. 

OH,  labor  in  darkness  and  labor  by  day,  — 
The  world  waits  for  workmen,  the  brave  and  the 
true. 
Go,  work  in  all  fields,  and  toil  while  you  may,  — 
The  world  waits  your  coming ;   there  's  something 
to  do. 

0  men,  for  the  times,  in  the  mission  of  life, 
Be  strong  in  the  conflict,  be  brave  in  the  strife  ! 
There 's  a  crown  for  the  good  and  joy  for  the  brave 
Whom  toil  cannot  conquer,  nor  pleasure  enslave,  — 
That  joy,  may  you  taste ;  that  crown,  may  it  shine 
On  each  glorified  brow  with  a  lustre  divine. 


oX«c 


TRUE  GREATNESS. 

WHAT  is  true  greatness  ?  —  where  and  whence  ? 
Who  knows  its  secret  drifts  ? 
Bright  and  mysterious  as  the  light, 

Shot  from  the  cloudland  rifts  ? 
WTiose  life,  in  splendid  blazonry. 

Shall  find  immortal  fame ; 
Who,  'mid  the  wreck  of  quaking  worlds, 
Shall  wear  a  deathless  name  ? 


112  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Not  piles  of  masonry,  or  pomp, 

Statue,  nor  marble  bust, 
Arrest  oblivion,  and  preserve 

The  frame  from  kindred  dust ; 
Yet  how  shall  human  spirits  shine. 

As  shines  the  sparkling  gem, 
And,  fadeless,  glow  like  glorious  stars 

In  night's  fair  diadem  ? 

No  spirit  of  the  cultured  East, 

No  wealth  of  skill  nor  pen, 
No  grain-fields  of  the  widening  West, 

Avail  to  build  true  men ; 
No  genius,  born  of  earthly  germs, 

No  haughty,  base  desire, 
But  nobler  breath,  imbreathed  of  God, 

Wakes  in  the  soul  new  fire. 

0  mystery  of  human  life ! 

0  wondrous  end  of  man  ! 
0  theme,  with  curious  questions  rife, 

With  God's  divinest  plan,  — 
Plan  which  no  human  mind  can  reach, 

No  human  tongue  can  tell ; 
Too  deep  for  angel's  speech  or  thought, 

Boundless,  ineffable. 

How  doth  the  acorn  from  the  germ 

Become  the  mighty  tree  ? 
How  grows  the  infant  spark  of  thought. 

Broader  than  land  and  sea  ? 
The  mighty  oak  its  crumbling  boughs 

Back  to  earth's  bosom  gives  ; 
But  ages  come,  and  ages  pass, — 

Mind,  still  expanding,  lives. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND   OCCASIONS.         113 

What  wealth,  of  faithful  work  is  born  ! 

What  greatness,  won  by  toil. 
E'en  as  the  farmer's  golden  corn 

Grows  from  the  deep-worked  soil ! 
Spoil  not  thy  soul  with  nerveless  aim, 

With  idle,  weak  desire  ; 
Strive  nobly  for  a  noble  name,  — 

To  all  high  deeds  aspire. 

As  from  the  crucible  the  gold, 

Eefined  by  fierce  heat,  flows  ; 
As  from  the  sculptor's  dust  and  grime 

The  chiselled  wonder  grows,  — 
So,  from  earth's  friction,  toil  and  grief 

Bring  beauty,  love,  and  truth. 
Garments  of  praise  for  ripened  days, 

The  light  and  crown  of  youth. 

They  waste,  they  spoil,  their  time  and  toil, 

Who  pleasure's  goblet  drain. 
And  fondly  hope  by  idle  wish 

Life's  high  rewards  to  gain  ; 
Like  some  bright,  beauteous  bird  whose  wing 

Is  torn,  or  clipped,  or  bound. 
And  his  rich  dyes  he  vainly  trails 

Along  the  dusty  ground. 

On  wealth  intent,  in  fierce  pursuit 

O'er  distant  climes  and  isles, 
The  merchant  drives  with  eager  haste, 

And  b.cap  on  heap  he  piles  ; 
Like  sand-hills  on  the  wave-washed  shore, 

Like  clouds  of  drifting  spray, 
Like  mole-hills  in  the  ploughman's  path. 

His  treasures  melt  away. 


114  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Ambition  mounts  his  fiery  steeds. 

Plumed  o'er  new  heights  to  soar. 
And  waves  aloft  his  potent  wand 

O'er  subject  sea  and  shore,  — 
Nurse  thy  fair  bubble,  man  of  pride, 

Thyself,  thy  mighty  care, 
Eeach  forth  for  other  worlds  to  rule. 

And  grasp,  —  but  empty  air. 

The  athlete  struggles  in  the  race,  — 

The  expected  crown,  his  life  ; 
Muscle  and  bone,  and  blood  and  nerve, 

Tense  with  the  eager  strife ; 
0  bootless  task,  such  wreath  to  win  ! 

Triumph,  alas,  how  brief ! 
His  valor,  nought  but  force  of  limb ; 

His  crown,  a  fading  leaf. 

Proud  of  the  flag  that  o'er  him  waves, 

Of  deeds  his  bravery  wrought, 
Of  rights  secured,  of  wrongs  redrest, 

Of  battles  grandly  fought,  — 
The  warrior,  with  his  sword  unsheathed, 

Cries,  "  Victory  —  or  —  death  !  " 
How  soon  his  vaunted  glory  pales,  — 

Brief  as  a  passing  breath. 

Scorched  on  the  line,  chilled  at  the  pole, 

Tossed  on  the  billowy  foam,  — 
Hope  vainly  lures  the  explorer  on, 

With  tireless  zeal  to  roam. 
Perchance,  he  finds  nor  sea  nor  land ; 

The  phantom  onward  leads  : 
The  fame,  the  wealth,  the  rest  he  seeks, 

False  to  his  hopes,  recedes. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.         115 

But  gold,  nor  art,  nor  costly  show, 

Nor  birth,  nor  regal  state. 
Nor  palace  tall,  nor  acres  wide 

Make  him  who  holds  them  great ; 
But  wisdom,  grace,  and  knowledge  broad, 

A  great  and  noble  soul, 
And  God's  blest  image,  God's  high  thought, 

Stamped  grandly  on  the  whole. 

Oh,  winnow  grains  of  truth  and  love 

From  this  world's  useless  straw ! 
Who  rules  his  life,  he  rules  the  end,  — 

'T  is  Nature's  changeless  law. 
Oh,  blest  the  man,  supremely  blest, 

Whose  life  sublimely  flows, 
And  God's  approving  sentence  sheds 

A  halo  round  its  close ! 

0  man,  in  God's  own  image  formed, 

Offspring  of  God's  great  thought ; 
0  man,  for  lofty  aims  designed. 

For  noble  purpose  wrought,  — 
Build  not  on  Time's  illusive  sands 

The  pillar  of  thy  fame. 
But  high,  on  monuments  unseen, 

Carve  an  immortal  name. 

What  harvest  fields  of  joy  and  hope 

Whiten  the  world's  broad  face  1 
A  sickle  waits  each  willing  hand, 

Each  heart  God's  helping  grace ; 
No  seed  is  lost,  no  precious  grain 

To  earth  can,  useless,  fall. 
God  guards  the  reapers  and  the  seed ; 

His  love  shall  garner  all. 


116  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


WOMEN'S   RIGHTS. 

"T"^  IS  the  question  of  the  day ; 

A       They  discuss  it  every  May, 
With  all  their  wit  and  learnmg ; 

And  renew  it  in  October,  — 

Dames,  strong-minded,  and  men,  sober, 
Stupid  souls,  and  souls  discerning. 

Oh,  for  wisdom  to  pronounce. 
To  the  tittle  of  an  ounce, 

For  our  wives,  and  for  some  prim  men. 
The  number,  weight,  and  measure 
Of  that  rich  and  precious  treasure,  — 

The  rights,  to  wit,  of  women. 

'T  is  my  creed,  —  perhaps  I  'm  wrong. 
But  1 11  say  it  for  a  song,  — 

Their  right  is  to  promote  us 
From  bachelors  to  men. 
To  excel  us  with  the  pen. 

But  never  to  outvote  us. 

Should  we  let  her  vote  at  all,  — 
Woman  great  or  woman  small,  — 

Such  majorities  might  aid  her. 
That  the  lords  of  this  creation 
Would  lose  their  right  and  station. 
And  their  claim  to  run  the  nation. 

From  zenith  down  to  nadir. 


CmC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.  117 

'T  is  their  right,  throughout  the  strife 
Of  this  weary,  toiling  life. 

To  be  gentle,  loving,  sweet, 
And  receive  from  us,  the  strong,  — 
Be  the  struggle  brief  or  long,  — 

Shelter  'mid  the  dust  and  heat. 


'T  is  their  right  in  days  of  pain. 
To  calm  the  fevered  brain, 
Kind  as  the  gentle  rain 

Or  summer  dew ; 
And  to  find  in  us  relief 
In  days  of  toil  and  grief,  — 

Like  them,  patient,  mild,  and  true. 

We  yield  to  them  the  right 

To  be  witty,  brave,  and  bright, 

In  repartee  to  shine  ; 
Better  than  sparkling  toys, 
To  be  mothers  to  our  boys. 
Famed  for  quiet  or  for  noise. 

Be  the  youngsters  one  or  nine, 

'T  is  their  matchless  right,  —  we  claim,  — 
Their  glory  and  their  fame. 

Not  for  foreign  joys  to  roam ; 
But  to  break  the  clouds  of  sadness, 
To  strew  earth's  paths  with  gladness. 

To  be  the  sunliiiht  of  the  home. 


'T  is  their  right  in  love  to  stand. 
With  tender  heart  and  hand. 
And  to  watch  beside  the  bed, 


118  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Till  the  spirit  upward  flies ; 
And  down  the  opening  skies, 
Like  gleams  from  Paradise, 

Heaven's  light  is  round  them  shed. 


'T  is  their  right,  with  holy  feeling, 
To  be  found,  all  meekly  kneeling. 

Before  the  throne  of  prayer. 
'T  is  there  they  find  their  power,  — 
Grace  is  their  richest  dower ; 

Their  dearest  rights  are  there. 


Oh,  no,  we  would  not  take 

One  right,  —  for  their  dear  sake,  — 

Nor  pull  their  power  down  ; 
Theirs  to  strew  the  earth  with  good, 
As  earth's  lords  never  could. 

And  then  wear  Heaven's  crown. 


Oh,  no,  we  are  not  wrong. 
Say  we  it  in  prose,  or  song  ! 

'T  is  our  pleasure  to  promote  them 
To  the  headship  of  our  table. 
To  whatever  good  we  're  able  ; 

But  we  always  will  outvote  them. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.         119 


DEDICATION  HYMN. 

CHAMBER  OF  COMMERCE,  BOSTON,  JANUARY  21, 1892. 

SO,  the  fair  structure  stands. 
The  work  of  human  hands 
And  human  will ; 
Here,  where  the  rippling  wave 
The  sea-sands  used  to  lave, 
Soar  towers  and  architrave, 
Beauty  and  skill. 

Here  shall  fair  Commerce  sit, 
"With  wisdom,  grace,  and  wit. 

The  state  to  bless  ; 
Here  land  shall  speak  to  land, 
And  hand  be  clasped  in  hand, 
And  noblest  deeds  be  planned, 

In  righteousness. 

Peace  her  white  wings  shall  spread 
O'er  all  the  paths  we  tread ; 

Truth  guide  our  way : 
While  patriot  sire  and  son 
Bends  to  the  work  begun, 
And  new  successes,  won, 

Shall  crown  the  day. 

To  Thee,  great  God,  to  Thee, 
God  of  the  land  and  sea. 

These  towers  we  raise  ; 
Establish  here  Thy  throne  ; 
Eule  in  all  hearts  alone  ; 
Thy  sovereign  right  we  own, 

Thy  name  we  praise  ! 


120  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


FOE    THE    DINNEK    OF    THE    FIRST    CITY 
GOVERNMENT   OF   NEWTON,   MASS. 

BOSTON,  FRIDAY,  JANUARY  1,   1886. 

I  SUPPOSE  I  'm  the  aim  of  your  eloquent  battery, 
And  you  wish  for  my  rhymes  as  the  pay  for  your 
flattery ; 
I  own  it  accords  with  the  ways  of  society. 
And  humbly  I  yield  to  the  laws  of  propriety. 

You  '11  pardon  my  verse,  if 't  is  undiplomatical, 
Not  Republican,  Mugwump,  or  pure  Democratical ; 
My  calling  is  not  to  discussions  political, 
Nor  yours,  at  a  banquet,  to  be  sharply  critical. 

To  raise  to  a  city  this  place  of  our  habitat. 

With  aldermen,  mayor,  common   council,  and   all   of 

that. 
Was  better  than  marring  the  town  and  dividing  it. 
Or  trotting  some  hobby  out  boldly  and  riding  it,  — 
Making  twain  what  is  one  by  right  systematical, 
And  calling  that  two  which  is  one,  geographical. 
For  praising  it,  people  may  charge  us  with  vanity  ; 
Not  praising  it,  people  would  call  it  —  insanity. 
Our  city  regime  was  not  sour  grapes,  pendulous  ; 
But  clusters,  the  fairest,  of  these  we  were  emulous. 
The  young  city,  launched,  like  a   ship  on  the  sea  to 

sail, 
Was  manned  by  a  crew  whose  lot  never  should  be  to 

fail; 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.         121 

But,  as  good  men  and  true  need   no   props  and    no 

garnishiu;/, 
'T  were  useless  to  take  up  the  business  of  varnishing. 
My  verse  is  sincere  and  hearty  in  praising  them  ; 
The  people  were  wise  to  such  oflice  in  raising  them. 
Fair  city  !  they  struck  for  success  in  beginning  it, 
And  with  every  new  year  their  successors  are  winning 

it. 
It  is  just  to  speak  well  of  the  people  who  merit  it ; 
Their  praise,  it  is  fair  that  their  sons  should  inherit  it. 
They  were  temperate  men,  never  charged  with  ebriety. 
Whose  walk,  like  a  deacon's,  was  marked  by  sobriety ; 
Not  ruled  by  some  party  end,  blindly  and  slavishly. 
Not  planning,  and  fencing,  and  junketing  knavishly  ; 
Not  famed,  in  debate,  for  their  Ihient  lo(|uacity, 
Not  noted,  in  contracts,  for  grasping  rapacity  ; 
Not  eager  to  seek  entertainments  aquatical ; 
Not  puffed,  like  balloons,  with  soarings  ecstatical ; 
Not  privily  chasing  some  shadow  they  're  driving  at, 
And  blind  to  foresee  the  ends  they  're  arriving  at ; 
With  their  fame  nibbled  thin,  by  their  secret  chicanery, 
Like  fair  ears  of  corn  by  a  mouse  in  the  granary ; 
Above  playing  fast,  playing  loose  with  their  politics, 
Like  lol)byists,  zealously  plying  their  jolly  tricks : 
The  men  for  the  times,  —  and  the  times  were  a  rarity,  — 
The  times  and  the  men  were  a  wonderful  parity. 
Expenses,  'tis  true,  in  tlie  ledger  are  debited. 
But  good  things  unnumbered,  per  contra,  are  credited. 
So  the  first  city  fathers,  we  '11  not  rate  them  badly,  sir. 
But   praise   them,  and   toast   them,  and    honor   them 

gladly,  sir. 
Your  power,  good  sirs,  is  a  thing  of  the  preterite, 
If  you  did  not  rule  well,  'tis  too  late  to  better  it ; 
Still,  government  measures  are  often  a  mystery. 
But,  foolish,  or  wise,  —  one  year  makes  them  liistory. 


122  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Methinks  as  "we  sit  here,  now  eating,  now  talking  fast, 
The   shades  of  the  fathers  are  seen   grimly  stalking 

past, 
Peering   here,  peering  there,  with  their  ancient  eyes 

critical, 
Charging  this,  charging  that,  as  new-fangled,  or  mysti- 
cal. 
They  list  to  the  sound  of  our  steam-engines,  clattering ; 
They  hear,  in  our  fountains,  the  bright  water  pattering. 
They  see,  in  our  grounds,  fruits  and  flowers  exotical, 
And  brand  our  new  schemes  as  insane  or  quixotical ; 
Deem  some  things  we  do  proofs  of  maddest  audacity. 
And    some,  —  they    must    own,  —  showing    highest 

capacity ; 
Accusing  our  speeches  of  bombast  and  platitude, 
As  if  lack  of  depth  could  be  made  up  in  latitude. 
0  shades  of  the  fathers,  suspend  your  opinions,  do, 
Or  hasten  away  to  your  silent  dominions,  do  ! 
You  judge  Time's  inventions  amiss,  from  not  knowing 

them, 
Like  men  who  judge  fruits  from  the  seeds,  without 

sowing  them ; 
We  know  these  new  things  are  too  good  to  dispute  on, 

sirs, 
And  we  're  proud  of  the  first  city  fathers  of  Newton, 

sirs. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND   OCCASIONS.         123 
SACKED,  O   GOD,   TO   THEE. 

DEDICATION  HYMN  FOR  THE  DEDHAM  HOME  FOR  WAIF  BOYS. 

SACRED,  0  God,  to  Thee, 
This  home  of  ours, 
Its  sunny  slopes  and  fields, 
Its  peaceful  bowers ; 
Sacred,  O  God,  to  Thee, 
Thine  may  it  ever  be,  — 
Both  Thine  and  ours. 

Here  may  the  cliildren  learn 

To  lisp  Thy  praise ; 
Here  infant  hearts  grow  strong 

In  wisdom's  ways ; 
All  that  is  evil  spurn, 
For  all  true  goodness  yearn,  — 

All  to  Thy  praise. 

And  let  Thy  favor  rest 

On  those  whose  love 
Opened  this  rural  home, 

Garden,  and  grove ; 
As  all  the  good  are  blest. 
Thy  blessing  on  them  rest. 

Heaven  and  love. 

After  the  weeping  May, 

Springs  a  bright  June  ; 
After  a  brief  eclipse. 

Shines  the  full  moon  ; 
After  earth's  twilight  ray. 
Be  ours  a  peaceful  day,  — 

Heaven's  glorious  noon. 
June  U,  1886. 


124  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


THE   CONSECKATION   OF  A   CEMETERY. 

Written  June  6,  1857,  for  the  dedication  of  Newton  Cemetery ;  also 
sung  at  dedication  of  Rose  Hill  Cemetery,  Chicago,  111. 

DEEP  'mid  these  dim  and  silent  shades 
The  shimbering  dead  shall  lie, 
Tranquil  as  summer  evening  fades 
Along  the  western  sky. 

The  whispering  winds  shall  linger  here 

To  lull  their  deep  repose,  — 
Like  music  on  the  dewy  air, 

Like  nightfall  on  the  rose. 

Light  through  the  twining  boughs  shall  shed 

Its  calm  and  cheerful  ray, 
As  hope  springs  from  the  dying  bed 

And  points  to  perfect  day. 

Around  each  funeral  urn  shall  cling 

The  fairest,  freshest  flowers,  — 
Emblem  of  heaven's  eternal  spring. 

And  brighter  lands  than  ours. 

Gathered  from  thousand  homes,  the  dust 

In  soft  repose  shall  lie. 
Like  garnered  seed  in  holy  trust 

For  immortality. 

Room  for  the  households  !  till  the  morn 

Its  "lories  shall  restore. 
And  on  the  silent  sleepers  dawn 

The  day  that  fades  no  more. 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND  OCCASIONS.         125 


CHANGE  AND   WORK. 

Fbom  a  poem  read  before  the  Lasselle  Female  Seminary, 
Auburmlale,  Mass. 


A' 


PROEM. 

S  I  sat,  on  "  the  Fourth,"  in  the  land  of  the  free, 
With  the  banner  of   freedom  above  my  head 
waving, 
And  sang  of  the  bliss  which  true  liberty  gives, 

And  praised  the  brave  men  who  our  blessings  are 
saving, 

A  ves.<^el  of  war  sailed  down  on  my  lee. 
And  calmly  invited  my  bark  to  surrender. 

With  broadsides  of  compliments,  such  as  you  hear. 
When   the   borrower    comes   to   pay   court   to   the 
lender. 

I  found  it  was  useless  to  plead  for  release, 

Or  in  terms  of  excuse  to  beseech  him  for  quarter ; 

What  landsman  would  venture  to  parry  with  words, 
The  shots  of  an  iron-clad  craft  of  the  water  ? 

For  safety,  steer  clear  of  all  naval  rigs. 

Or  gun-boats  or  monitors,  frigates  or  brigs. 

My  bark  to  his  mercy,  I  chose  to  surrender,  — 

"  Lady  Muse  "  is  her  name ;  of  course  he  '11  defend  hei. 

So,  here,  Mr.  Briggs,  is  your  poem  on  "  work ; " 
I  could  n't  refuse  it,  you  good-natured  Turk  ; 
You  're  a  despot  of  learning,  and  in  power  to-day ; 
So  be  absolute  monarch,  and  have  your  own  way  ! 


126  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


POEM. 


In  nursery,  college,  work,  fashion,  and  art ; 

In  country  and  city,  in  village  and  mart ; 

In  trade  and  mechanics,  on  land  and  on  sea; 

In  climes  ruled  by  despots,  or  ruled  by  the  free ; 

Where  flashes  the  flame  of  war's  lurid  glare  ; 

Where  wave  the  sweet  banners  of  peace  on  the  air ; 

In  tropical  heat,  in  the  teeth  of  the  cold, 

With  the  youthful  and  fair,  the  wrinkled  and  old ; 

In  circles  polite,  with  the  rough  honest  seamen ; 

In  London,  Berlin,  Caffreland,  and  Van  Diemau,  — 

It  reigns  over  all,  with  a  merciless  sceptre, 

Since  Eve  took  the  fruit,  —  0,  had  Adam  but  kept  her, 

Through  grace,  this  great  tyrant  one  triumph  had  lost, 

And  Earth's  first  temptation  no  sorrow  had  cost. 

I  sing  no  new  theme  ;  everywhere  you  shall  find  it : 

No  force  can  resist,  no  fetters  can  bind  it ; 

No  genius  of  man  can  command  it  away ; 

No  strength  but  must  bow,  its  nod  to  obey ; 

No  bribe,  no  condition,  can  limit  the  range 

Of  that  power  despotic,  ubiquitous,  —  Change  I 

It  comes  in  our  troubles,  our  bondage  to  sever ; 
Without  it  would  toothache  be  toothache  forever. 
It  rouses,  but  calms,  the  wild  billows  at  sea ; 
It  gathers  the  storm,  but  compels  it  to  flee  ; 
Wakes  daylight  from  gloom,  and  purples  each  ray 
That  beams  in  the  west  at  the  setting  of  day  ; 
Spreads  earth  in  the  spring  with  a  mantle  of  pride ; 
And  whitens  and  jewels  it  o'er  like  a  bride. 
When  the  nuts  have  been  cracked  by  the  frosts  of 

October, 
And  beauty  autumnal,  grown  silent  and  sober, 


CIVIC  INTERESTS  AND   OCCASIONS.  127 

Rests  under  the  snow,  —  fair  mantle,  but  strange, 
Wrought  to  hide  like  a  pall,  the  triumph  of  Change  ! 

We  hate  it ;  we  love  it,  avoid  it,  or  seek. 
We  praise  what  endures  ;  yet,  with  attitude  meek, 
A  change  of  condition  we  anxiously  woo,  — 
Convinced  't  will  be  better,  if  only  't  is  new. 

So  begs  the  fair  child,  as  he  runs  from  his  play, 

And  stands  by  the  side  of  his  grandmother  gray. 

To  see  the  new  volume  of  pictures  just  bought, 

Of  tilings  never  seen,  and  of  battles  ne'er  fought, 

To  turn  every  leaf,  with  the  hastiest  kiss. 

In  love  with  the  next,  impatient  of  this  ; 

The  glance  of  an  instant,  enough  for  his  brain  ; 

The  scenery  must  then  be  shifted  again. 

The  child,  like  a  mirror,  reflects  but  the  man,  — 

Two  sizes  worked  out  on  the  very  same  plan. 

The  farmer,  uneasy,  is  weary  of  toil. 
Despises  the  slow-growing  wealth  of  the  soil ; 
Aspires  to  be  rich  in  a  day  without  work, 
To  eat  like  an  alderman,  smoke  like  a  Turk. 
Leaving  turnips  and  hay,  he  sells  buttons  and  braid. 
He  stocks  a  fine  store,  plays  gymnastics  in  trade ; 
Talks  wisely  of  tariffs  and  duties  and  laces, 
Of  cases  of  goods,  and  of  fraudulent  cases ; 
Drives  a  fine,  fancy  horse,  buys  a  costly  piano. 
And  frowns  if  they  say  his  wealth  smells  of  guano ; 
Consumes  in  one  year  what  he  gathered  in  ten. 
And  must  climb  from  the  foot  of  the  ladder  again. 

He  thought  he  should  see  his  broad  acres  extend ; 
Have  money  in  plenty,  to  use  and  to  lend ; 
Take  his  wife  to  the  mountains,  the  sea  or  the  springs ; 
Wear  broadcloth  the  finest,  and  costliest  rings ; 


128  POEMS  OF   COUNTRY. 

In  talk  about  politics  take  his  full  share ; 

And  live,  dainty  soul,  untroubled  by  care, 

In  fashion  recherchd,  a  life  without  labor, 

Assured  of  success,  like  some  fortunate  neighbor ;  — 

But  no  farmer  grows  rich  who  sets  up  for  a  shirk, 

Or  aims,  when  turned  merchant,  to  live  without  work. 

The  land  swarms  with  men  of  that  gaseous  body, 
The  self-styled  dlite,  —  the  American  shoddy, 
Eaised  up  from  the  shop  or  the  loom,  in  a  day, 
By  arts  reckoned  honest,  because  "  it  will  pay ; " 
But  all  things  good  and  great,  of  human  pursuit. 
Are  of  patience  and  time  the  slow-growing  fruit. 
The  gourd  that  grows  swiftly,  as  swiftly  may  die  ; 
The  wealth  quickly  won,  as  quickly  may  fly ; 
The  coral,  reared  up  from  the  depths  of  the  waves, 
Where  sea-monsters  sport  in  their  dim-lighted  caves, 
The  effort  of  ages,  built,  grain  upon  grain. 
Is  slowly  constructed,  but  long  shall  remain. 

So  springs,  with   bright  promise,  the  germ  from  the 

shell, 
Where,  hidden,  it  lay  in  its  prison-like  cell ; 
And,  nurtured  by  sunlight,  by  heat,  dew,  and  rain, 
It  waves  on  the  hill,  it  smiles  o'er  the  plain  ; 
It  drinks  every  morning  the  sweet-scented  dew, 
Still  drinking,  and  growing,  and  drinking  anew ; 
It  bathes  in  the  glory  of  noon-tide  and  even. 
But  slowly  matures,  —  like  mortals  for  heaven. 

He  whom  pain  cannot  conquer,  nor  hardship  can  foil, 
Grows  great  by  endurance,  grows  nobler  by  toil ; 
And  fragrant  with  good  are  the  paths  which  he  trod, 
And  grand  is  his  rest  in  the  bosom  of  God  ! 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     129 


PATRIOTIC   EXAMPLES   AND 
LNCENTIYES. 


THE  FATHERS  AND  THEIR 
STRUGGLES. 


w 


A  TRIBUTE  TO   COLUMBUS. 

'ESTWABD,  brave  seaman,  sail, 

Pressed  on  by  every  gale  ; 
God  is  thy  guide  ! 
Westward,  and  nothing  fear ; 
Westward,  thy  pathway  steer, 
Till  some  new  land  appear 
Beyond  the  tide. 

Day  and  night  went  and  came  ; 
Led  by  God's  pillared  flame. 

All  sails  unfurled, 
The  seaman  trod  the  deck, 
Fearless  of  storm  or  wreck, 
When  rose  a  distant  speck,  — 

Lo  !  the  new  world  ! 

Wliat  found  he  on  these  shores  ? 
Fair  isles  and  golden  stores, — 

Riches  unknown ; 
But,  fairer  still,  to  be 
A  land  of  liberty. 
Reaching  from  sea  to  sea,  — 

Freedom's  high  throne. 

9 


130  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

God  of  the  sea  and  land, 
We  trace  Thy  mighty  hand ; 

We  own  Thy  power. 
Here  set  Thy  rightful  throne  ; 
Make  the  new  world  Thine  own ; 
Eule  its  expanse,  alone, 

Forevermore. 

October  21, 1892. 


>J«io 


AMEEICA,   THE  WESTEEN   FLOWER 

TWAS  planted  while  the  wintry  winds 
Athwart  the  earth  were  sweeping, 
And  deep  beneath  the  snowy  crust 
The  summer  flowers  lay  sleeping. 
"  Take,"  said  the  sower  to  the  sod, 

"  The  seed  I  love  and  cherish  ; 
Though  bleak  December,  I  must  trust 
The  grain  —  survive  or  perish  ! " 

Stern  winter  round  the  struggling  plant 

Sent  down,  in  furious  rattle. 
Its  rain  and  sleet,  its  hail  and  snow. 

Like  shot  and  shell  in  battle. 
Sharp  was  the  air,  and  rough  the  soil. 

The  tender  rootlets  grew  in ; 
And  half  sent  up  a  verdant  sprout, 

And  half  was  but  a  ruin. 

Above  the  growing  plant  they  stretched 
A  blue  and  crimson  awning,  — 

Fair  as  the  brilliant  arch  on  high, 
That  canopies  the  dawning, 


PA  Tin  OTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTI VES.      1 3 1 

Relieved  with  silver  stars  the  blue, 

With  white,  the  crimson  edging. 
The  sacred  soil  with  wavy  lines, 

Like  ocean  surges,  hedging. 

But  round  the  plant,  while  burning  skies 

With  heat  scorched  all  the  garden. 
The  awning  wet  with  tears  like  dew. 

Stretched  by  the  faithful  warden, 
Sheltered  the  flower  with  stamens  dark, 

Till,  morning's  redness  breaking, 
The  foe  that  w^atched  the  flower  with  hate, 

Slept,  and  knew  no  awaking. 

And  in  the  fragrant,  sunlit  air, 

Around  the  nations  breathing, 
First  in  the  circle  of  delights 

The  world's  fair  Eden  wreathing. 
Smiles  the  bright  blossom,  sweeter  far 

Than  flowers  of  Eastern  story, 
Watered  with  tears  and  blood,  and  reared 

To  be  a  people's  glory. 

The  seed  was  sown  when  pilgrim  feet 

On  Plymouth  Rock  descended ; 
And  watered,  when  the  sires  and  sons 

Their  tears  and  labors  blended ; 
And  scorched  by  drought  when  conflict  drove 

Its  plough  of  desolation  ; 
And  waved  in  glory,  when,  like  flowers, 

Bloomed  here,  a  new-born  nation. 


132  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


THE   PILGEIM   FATHEES. 

IN    MEMORY   OF    THEIR  LANDING  UPON    PLYMOUTH  ROCK 
ON  THE  21STDAY  OF  DECEMBER,   1620. 

THEY  left  old  England's  cultured  homes, 
Its  broad  green  fields,  its  sunny  skies, 
Its  tall  cathedral-spires  and  domes, 
As  the  first  pair  left  Paradise. 

They  found  a  forest,  wild  and  bleak. 

Cold,  threatening  skies  and  frozen  sod,  — 

Brave  noble  souls,  resolved  to  seek 
Deliverance  from  the  oppressor's  rod. 

They  left  the  dear  ancestral  shrines, 
The  altars  where  their  fathers  bowed, 

Graves  where  their  hallowed  dust  reclines. 

The  fields  they  reaped,  the  hills  they  ploughed. 

They  found  a  stormy,  cheerless  coast. 
Swept  by  fierce  winds  and  savage  men  ; 

Nature's  rude  growth,  the  heathen's  boast ; 
The  rockbound  shores,  the  wild  beast's  den. 

Yet  came  they  fearless,  bold,  and  brave,  — 

Not  theirs  to  bow  to  men  the  knee. 
Unfettered  as  the  ocean  wave,  — 

God's  freemen,  whom  the  truth  made  free. 

The  wintry  forests'  dim  defiles 

Woke,  their  triumphant  psalms  to  hear. 

And  rocks,  and  hills,  and  distant  isles 
Echoed  their  pilgrim-hymns  of  cheer. 


PA  TRIO  TIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTI VES.     133 

0  wise  to  plan,  0  justly  famed  ! 

O  strong  iu  patient  faith  to  wait ! 
These  are  the  noble  sires  who  framed 

And  built  New  England's  early  state. 


TEA-DEINKING. 

AN  AMERICAN  BALLAD. 

GOOD-MORNING,  Ma'am,  I  come  to  bring 
From  mother,  Mrs.  B., 
Her  compliments,  and  ask  you  down, 
To  take  a  cup  of  tea. 

"  Do  come ! "  aside  "  ('T  is  such  a  fuss 

To  have  one's  friends  to  tea, 
Ma  wants  to  have  it  over  with.) 

Come  early,  —  say,  by  three." 

Now  Mrs.  B.  was  bound  to  have 

A  little  talk,  you  know ; 
And  Mrs.  A.  was  bound  to  tell 

Her  thoughts,  —  just  so  and  so. 

A  tax,  dear  Mrs.  B.  resolved 

O'er  Mrs.  A.  to  come,  — 
"  Bring  threepence  with  you,  Mrs.  A." 

"  Yes,  but  I  won't  be  dumb." 

"  You  shall ! "     "I  won't,"  .said  Mrs.  A, 

"  I  '11  speak  my  mind,  I  will ! " 
"You  sha'n't,"  said  Mrs.  B.,  "you  sha'n't; 

But  bring  the  pennies  still." 


134  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

And  so  the  gentle  ladies  talked, 

Full  of  rare  pluck  and  ire, 
Till  words,  condensed,  were  changed  to  deeds. 

And  tea  distUled  in  fire. 

"  You  're  a  side-issue,  Mrs.  A." 

"You're  ditto,  Mrs  B." 
So  Father  Adam  used  to  say, 

Petting  with  Mother  Eve. 

"  Whether  a  side-issue  or  not, 

I  think,  at  last,  you  '11  see 
There 's  something  brewing,  red  as  blood, 

Coiled  in  a  cup  of  tea." 

Then  Mrs.  A.  a  feast  announced, 
Long  since,  we  well  remember, 

In  Boston,  near  a  famous  wharf, 
One  still  night  in  December. 

She  hired  some  red-skinned  caterers, 

Who  lived  beside  the  sea, 
To  heat  the  water,  and  prepare 

A  real  strong  cup  of  tea. 

Now  Mrs.  B.  stood  near,  and  leaned 

On  Mr.  Gage's  arm,  — 
"  I  hope  this  party  may  not  lead," 

She  said,  "  to  any  harm." 

"  Why,  Mrs.  A.,"  at  length,  she  said, 

"  Tea  only,  and  no  cakes  ! " 
"  I  have  some  cake  in  Concord,  Ma'am, 

I  've  stored  it  for  your  sakes." 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     135 

" Then  bring  it  on  ! "     "I  won't."     "  You  shall  1 " 

"  Go  take  it,  if  you  can  ! 
Lord  Percy,  at  his  peril,  tries, 

Or  any  other  man." 

An  old  conundrum  asks,  I  think, 

Pray  tell  me,  do  you  see,  — 
"  Why  is  it,  sir,  that  living  men 

Sometimes  are  just  like  tea  ? " 

"  I  'm  poor  at  guessing ;  ask,  I  pray. 
Old  England's  honored  daughter,  —  " 

"  Because  their  worth  is  best  revealed 
When  plunged  into  hot  water." 

And  Mrs.  B.,  a  noble  dame. 

At  last  grew  proud  to  own 
Dear  Mrs.  A.,  —  who  stoutly  spurned 

To  bow  to  Britain's  throne. 

And  Mrs.  B.  sent  up  her  boys, 

Who  soon  marched  down  again  ; 
They  hurried  back  to  Boston  town, 

Wiser,  but  fewer  men. 

A  little  quarrel  then  arose. 

Dear  Mrs.  A.  and  B.  — 
Such  pulling  caps  !  such  burning  words ! 

"  You  shall ! "     "I  won't ! "     "  You '11  see  1 " 

'Twas  fourth  July,  when  Mrs.  A. 

Her  pretty  foot  set  down, 
And  said,  "  Now  mark  me,  Mrs.  B., 

I  '11  brook  nor  kings,  nor  crown." 


136  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

The  bands  were  cut.    A.  shouted, "  Free ! " 
B.  said,  "  Amen ! "  but  missed  her ; 

Compelled  to  yield,  she  nobly  cried, 
"  Dear  A.,  thou  art  my  sister ! " 

With  tears  of  love  and  clasping  hands, 
One  blue  arch  bending  o'er  us. 

One  bright,  broad  sea,  that  binds  the  land 
Behind,  to  land  before  us. 

Alike  in  faith,  alike  in  speech, 

Nursed  on  one  parent  knee. 
We  're  hasting  o'er  this  watery  track, 

To  driak  that  cup  of  tea. 

And  while  the  fragrant  fumes  ascend, 

Like  mists  above  the  sea. 
Each  land,  to  the  same  tune  shall  sing, 

"  My  country,  't  is  of  thee." 

Britain  the  music  shall  provide, 
The  mother  land  which  lures  us ; 

And  we  will  bring  the  hearty  words,  — 
One  soul,  one  ringuig  chorus. 

Steamer  "  Parthia  "  on  the  Atlantic  Ocean, 
July  4,  1875. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      137 


PAUL  REVEEE'S  EIDE. 

HANG  out  the  lantern  !    Let  oppression  quail ! 
The  pen  of  history  shall  record  the  tale  ; 
A  feeble  taper,  flashing  o'er  the  sea, 
But  the  first  signal  light  of  liberty. 

Hang  out  the  lantern  !    Veiled  by  friendly  night, 
A  watchful  horseman  waits,  to  catch  the  light. 
Then  warn  the  sleeping  people,  far  and  near^ 
Who  is  the  patriot  rider  ?     Paul  Eevere. 

Eide  on !  Eide  on  !  O  valiant  horseman  !     Wake 
Fathers  and  sons  a  stern  defence  to  make, 
Armed  with  brave  hands  and  hearts,  resolved  to  be, 
Through  Heaven's  behest,  a  nation  of  the  free. 

The  foemen  started  bravely  on  their  way. 
But  found  the  freemen  ready  for  the  fray, 
Waiting  their  coming,  —  men  who  knew  no  fear. 
Prepared  for  battle  !  —  roused  by  Paul  Eevere. 

High  thoughts,  strong  souls,  firm  wills  then  showed 

their  power ; 
Then  Independence  struck  the  nation's  hour. 
The  patriots  won  the  day !  and  Percy's  men. 
Conquered  and  broken,  sought  their  camps  again. 

The  feeble  lantern  in  the  belfry  hung. 
With  llickerhig  rays  o'er  the  still  water's  flung,  — 
A  central  sun,  that  nevermore  declines,  — 
Still  round  the  world,  a  radiant  signal,  shines. 


138  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Strong  men,  great  hearts,  the  stirring  times  required, 
With  matchless  zeal  and  fervent  purpose  fired, 
But  none  more  grandly  served  the  cause  so  dear, 
Than  the  brave  patriot  rider,  Paul  Eevere. 

Old  North  Church,  Boston, 
April  18,  1894. 


PATEIOT'S  DAY. 

APRIL  19,   1775. 
Written  for  the  "  Sons  of  the  Revolution,"  of  the  State  of  lowa. 

P RAISE  to  the  brave  and  true  ! 
Men  prompt  to  dare  and  do, — 
To  do,  or  die  ; 
Blazoned  on  history's  page, 
Men  for  their  stormy  age. 
Fearless  the  fight  to  wage, 
Scorning  to  fly. 

They,  with  prophetic  eye, 
Saw,  through  the  lurid  sky, 

The  goal  they  sought,  — 
A  nation  of  the  free, 
A  land  of  liberty, 
Stretching  from  sea  to  sea,  — 

0  glorious  thought ! 

They  hailed  the  coming  state. 
Patient  to  toil  and  wait. 
Suffered  and  bled ; 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      139 

Death  strode  o'er  hill  and  plain  ; 
With  hunger,  cold,  and  pain ; 
Hope  rose,  to  sink  again. 
Till  years  had  fled. 

But  forward,  onward  still, 
They  of  the  iron  will 

Pressed,  undismayed. 
A  nation's  love  they  claim  ; 
Born  to  immortal  fame, 
What  lustre  lights  each  name. 

Never  to  fade ! 

Hail,  patriots  !  whose  brave  hands 
Over  these  fair,  free  lands 

Tlieir  flag  unfurled ; 
Men,  by  all  times  admired. 
To  noble  deeds  inspired, 
By  whom  "  the  shot"  was  fired, 

"  Heard  round  the  world." 


0  sons  of  noble  sires, 
Who,  amid  war's  dread  fires, 

To  triumph  rode ! 
Proud  of  the  deeds  they  wrought. 
With  countless  blessings  fraught. 
Cherish  the  land  they  bought,  — 

The  tiif  t  of  God. 


April  19,  1894. 


140  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


INDEPENDENCE  DAY,  JULY  4,  1776. 

AUSPICIOUS  morning,  hail ! 
Voices  from  hill  and  vale 
Thy  welcome  sing : 
Joy  on  thy  dawning  breaks  ; 
Each  heart  that  joy  partakes, 
While  cheerful  music  wakes, 
Its  praise  to  bring. 

When  on  the  tyrant's  rod 
Our  patriot  fathers  trod. 

And  dared  be  free  ; 
'T  was  not  in  burning  zeal, 
Firm  nerves,  and  hearts  of  steel. 
Our  country's  joy  to  seal. 

But,  Lord,  in  Thee. 

Thou,  as  a  shield  of  power. 
In  battle's  awful  hour. 

Didst  round  us  stand  ; 
Our  hopes  were  in  Thy  throne ; 
Strong  in  Thy  might  alone, 
By  Thee  our  banners  shone, 

God  of  our  land  ! 

Long  o'er  our  native  hills, 
Long  by  our  shaded  rills. 

May  Freedom  rest ! 
Long  may  our  shores  have  peace, 
Our  flag  grace  every  breeze, 
Our  ships,  the  distant  seas. 

From  east  to  west ! 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     141 

Peace  on  this  day  abide, 
From  morn  till  even-tide  ; 

Wake,  tuneful  song ; 
Melodious  accents  raise. 
Let  every  heart,  with  praise, 
Bring  high  and  grateful  lays, 

Rich,  full,  and  strong. 


Onward  the  echo  floats  ; 
Sublime  and  swelling  notes 

On  the  air  sail ; 
From  fearless  hearts  and  free. 
The  lofty  minstrelsy 
Eises,  0  God,  to  Thee 

Hail,  Freedom,  hail ! 


THE   CHILDREN'S   INDEPENDENCE   DAY. 

The  first  poem  written  for  Lowell  Mason,  and  for  July  4, 1830. 


H 


ARK !  Music  wakes 
Among  the  mountains. 
And  thunder  breaks 
Along  the  fountains ; 
Each  river  bank  is  gay  with  flowers, 
More  bright  than  rainbows  in  the  showers. 

Chorus. 

Come,  children,  bring  a  cheerful  lay, 
To  welcome  Independence  Day  1 


142  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

The  banner  floats 

In  beauty  shining ; 
And  charming  notes, 
So  sweet  combining, 
Proclaim  'tis  Freedom's  holy  light 
That  beams  on  every  side  so  bright ! 

Chorus. 

The  temple  gates 

Eing  loud  with  singing, 
While  infant  mates 

Their  songs  are  bringing, 
The  God  of  victory  to  praise, 
And  swelling  notes  of  triumph  raise ! 

Chokus. 

We  are  the  young 

Of  Freedom's  nation ; 
Wake  every  tongue 
In  adoration. 
Let  music  float  on  every  breeze ; 
And  whisper  praises,  all  ye  trees  ! 

Chorus. 

This  joyful  day. 

Of  glad  emotion. 

Shall  pass  away 

In  sweet  devotion 

To  God  who  gave  our  fathers  peace. 

To  joyous  friends,  and  childish  bliss. 

Chorus. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     143 


THE   FOURTH   OF   JULY   REMEMBERED. 

SCHOOL  CELEBRATION,   JULY  24,  1832. 

HOW  brightly  shone  heaven's  holy  light, 
Along  the  path  our  fathers  trod  ! 
They  girded  them  to  deeds  of  might, 
Depending  on  the  arm  of  God. 

So  in  the  guiding  cloud  by  day, 
So  'mid  the  night,  in  pillared  flame. 

Did  Israel  see  the  chosen  way, 

Marked  by  their  God,  where'er  they  came. 

Loosed  from  a  foreign  monarch's  yoke. 
The  children  of  the  brave  and  free, 

0  God,  Thy  blessing  we  invoke, 

And  yield  glad  homage.  Lord,  to  Thee. 

Our  Father,  let  our  happy  land 

Still  smile  beneath  Thy  guardian  care  ; 

Let  peace  be  ours,  by  Thy  command, 
And  health  be  wafted  on  the  air. 

We  bless  Thee  for  the  joys  we  know  ; 

We  praise  Thee  for  this  happy  day ; 
Still  guide  us,  in  the  paths  we  go. 

And  lead  us  in  Thy  own  right  way. 


144  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


HYMN   FOE  THE   FOUETH   OF   JULY.i 

[Tune:  "Keller's  American  Hj/mn."] 

LAND  of  the  freemen  and  home  of  the  brave ! 
Soil  which  our  fathers  have  bought  with  their 
blood ! 
Dear  is  each  mountain,  rock,  river,  and  grave, 
Fields  where  their  feet  on  Oppression  have  trod ; 
Heroes,  whose  feet  on  oppressors  have  trod. 
Green  are  their  laurels  and  honored  each  grave ; 
Blest  be  the  soil  they  have  wet  with  their  blood, 
Land  of  the  freemen  and  home  of  the  brave  ! 

Peace  o'er  this  land  of  the  happy  and  free 
Folds  her  fair  pinions  in  loving  repose ; 
Liberty  reigns  from  the  sea  to  the  sea ; 
Freedom,  triumphant,  exults  o'er  her  foes  ; 
Freedom,  triumphant,  exults  o'er  her  foes ; 
Tidings  of  hope  echo  far  o'er  the  sea, 
Bidding  the  nations  oppressed  to  repose, 
Sheltered  by  peace,  in  this  land  of  the  free. 

God,  our  protector,  our  strength  is  in  Thee, 
Strong  to  deliver,  and  mighty  to  save ; 
Calm  each  wild  tempest  that  sweeps  o'er  the  sea, 
Calm  the  fierce  passions  that  swell  like  the  wave  ; 
Soothe  the  fierce  tumult  that  swells  like  the  wave, 
Breathe  with  the  whispers  of  love  o'er  the  sea. 
God,  we  rely  on  Thy  mercy  to  save  ; 
God,  our  protector,  our  strength  is  in  Thee. 

1  NewtOQ  City  Celebration,  July  4,  1870. 


PA TRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTI VES.      1 45 


THE  FATHEES  EEMEMBERED. 

HOW  pure  in  zeal,  how  firm  in  faith, 
Sternly  the  early  patriots  stood  ! 
Eeady  to  buy,  come  life  or  death, 
Their  freedom  at  the  price  of  blood. 

They  scorned  in  craven  fear  to  bend  ; 

No  tyrant  power  could  make  them  quail ; 
"  Our  rights,  as  freemen,  we  defend ; 

Our  cause  is  God's  —  it  cannot  fail." 

Slender  in  means,  in  numbers  few, 

But  high  in  aim  and  grand  in  thought ; 

Nobly  they  spoke,  brave  men  and  true, 
And  nobler  deeds  of  valor  wrought. 

A  century's  march,  through  peace  and  blood 
Has  left  their  influence  still  impressed 

On  all  the  hills  their  footsteps  trod. 
On  fields  their  presence  never  blessed. 

Our  fathers'  God,  we  own  Thy  power ; 

Thy  mighty  fiat  made  us  free. 
Our  help  in  that  decisive  hour, 

StUl  may  we  put  our  trust  in  Thee. 

Wi:«DERMERE,  ENGLAND,  May  30,  1876. 


10 


146  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


ODE   IN  MEMOEY   OF   EKANKLIN.i 

[TcNE  :  "  Auld  Lang  Syne."] 

OLD  Time  rolls  by,  but  gently  breathes 
On  Franklin's  glorious  fame, 
And  all  its  freshest  laurel  wreathes 

Around  his  honored  name. 
Bring  summer's  bloom  his  brow  to  adorn, 

Bring  spring's  most  gorgeous  flowers  ; 
He,  with  celestial  yearnings  born. 
Made  Nature's  secrets  ours. 

Bid  the  swift  lightning  write  his  name 

In  blue  electric  fire, 
And  roaring  thunders  loud  proclaim 

Him  whom  all  lands  admire. 
Stand,  patriot,  sage,  in  lasting  bronze. 

By  grateful  art  enshrined ; 
Live  in  ten  thousand  gathering  sons,  — 

Thy  meed,  the  polished  mind. 

The  sparkling  gift  each  year  revives 

Thy  high  renown  again, 
Linked  with  the  history  of  our  lives,  — 

Thy  trophies,  living  men. 
So  Time  rolls  by,  but  gently  breathes 

On  Franklin's  glorious  fame, 
And  all  its  freshest  laurels  wreathes 

Around  his  honored  name. 

1  "Written   for  the   "  Association   of  Franklin  Medal    Scholars,' 
Boston,  Edward  Everett,  orator. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      147 


THE   BIRTHDAY   OF   WASHINGTON. 

Read  before  the  Nonantum  Drill  Club,  Newton,  Massachusetts, 
February  22,  1864. 

HONORED  and  loved,  the  patriot  and  the  sage, 
Born  for  thy  own  and  every  coming  age, 
Thy  country's  champion,  Freedom's  chosen  son,  — 
We  hail  thy  birth-day,  glorious  Washington. 

Nurtured  in  courage,  industry,  and  truth, 
Thy  noble  childhood,  and  thy  generous  youth, 
Like  spring's  sweet  blossoms  on  the  sturdy  tree,  — 
Gave  early  promise  of  the  fruit  to  be ; 
And  well  it  ripened,  as  the  years  rolled  on, 
And  stood  in  manhood,  glorious  Washington. 

Dark  was  the  storm  that  gathered,  far  and  wide, 

When  rose  in  threatening  might  the  oppressor's  pride. 

And  men,  brave-hearted,  stood  in  battle  strong, 

Resolved  to  avenge  the  right  and  smite  the  wrong. 

Fierce  was  the  fight,  and  many  a  hero  fell ; 

Green  are  their  laurels,  and  they  earned  them  well. 

Nursed  in  the  lap  of  hardship,  sternly  taught 

To  value  great  ideas  and  high,  free  thought. 

With  noble  sacrifice  they  staked  their  all. 

To  stand  with  Freedom,  or  with  her  to  fall ; 

And  many  a  patriot  mother  gave  her  son, 

But  one  alone  gave  glorious  Washington. 

Keep  ye  his  memory  green  ;  preserve  his  fame ; 
Live  in  his  spirit;  love  his  honored  name  ; 
Teach  lisping  childhood  how  the  warrior  stood, 
A  tower  of  strength  'mid  scenes  of  strife  and  blood. 


148  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Let  men  and  mothers  to  their  infants  tell, 

How  Freedom  triumphed  and  Oppression  fell. 

When  he,  the  chieftain  of  the  brave  and  free. 

Led  on  our  troops  to  joy  and  victory. 

No  son  was  his  to  bear  his  cherished  name,  — 

No  son,  thank  God !  to  bring  his  father  shame  ; 

But  every  patriot  is  a  worthy  son, 

To  bear  thy  name  and  title,  Washington ! 

They  wear  their  honors  well,  these  sons  of  ours. 
Trained  by  fierce  fight  to  show  sublimer  powers ; 
Taught  like  the  eagle,  when  the  storm  beats  high. 
With  stronger  wing  to  cleave  the  threatening  sky. 
And  reach  through  raging  winds  the  cliffs  above. 
Where  dwell  serenely  liberty  and  love. 
Grow  strong,  through  toil,  to  bear  our  banners  on, 
As  he  once  bore  them,  glorious  Washington ! 

The  storms  will  pass.     The  flag,  in  battle  torn, 
Will  wear  new  honors,  by  our  sons  upborne ; 
Fast  anchored  on  the  Right,  a  glorious  rock. 
The  cause  of  Freedom  shall  not  feel  the  shock 
That  aims  its  force  against  the  Ship  of  State. 
Weak  billows,  vain  your  vengeance,  vain  your  hate ! 
More  patriot  mothers  have  more  sons  to  send ; 
More  noble  hearts  have  treasures  still  to  spend ; 
More  patriot  sinews  have  more  strength  to  give ; 
More  loving  hearts  have  loving  lives  to  live, — 
And  Freedom  shall  not  lack  a  faithful  son 
To  track  thy  steps,  0  glorious  Washington ! 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     140 


THE   SONS   AND  THEIR  STRUGGLES. 


PATRIOT    SONS   OF   PATRIOT   SIRES.^ 

[Tune  :   "  Young  America."] 

THE  small  life,  coiled  within  the  seed,  — 
A  promise  hid  away,  — 
But  dimly  heralds  what  shall  be 
When  comes  the  perfect  day  ; 
But  sun,  and  rain,  and  frost,  and  heat 

Enrich  the  fertile  fields, 
And  the  small  life  of  earlier  years 
A  waving  harvest  yields. 

The  corn  that  slumbers  in  the  hill, — 

A  disk  of  golden  grain,  — 
Stands  up  at  last,  a  rustling  host. 

And  covers  all  the  plain  ; 
Who  knows  to  what  the  infant  germ. 

In  coming  seasons,  leads, 
Or  how  the  golden  grain  expands. 

And  mighty  armies  feeds ! 

The  acorn,  in  its  little  cup, 

High  on  the  l)reezy  hill, 
Waits  for  the  fulness  of  the  times. 

Its  mission  to  fulfil, 

1  This  poem  was  written  on  the  22d  day  of  Febrnary,  1894,  as  the 
closing  patriotic  selection  of  "  Beacon  Lights  of  Patriotism." 


150  POEMS   OF   COUNTRY. 

And  year  by  year  grows  grand  and  strong,  — 

What  shall  the  future  be  ? 
A  noble  forest  on  the  land, 

Or  navy  on  the  sea. 

The  bright-eyed  boys,  who  crowd  our  schools, 

The  knights  of  book  and  pen, 
Weary  of  childish  games  and  moods, 

Will  soon  be  stalwart  men ; 
The  leaders  in  the  race  of  life. 

The  men  to  win  applause. 
The  great  minds,  born  to  guide  the  State, 

The  wise,  to  make  the  laws. 


Teach  them  to  guard  with  jealous  care 

The  land  that  gave  them  birth. 
As  patriot  sons  of  patriot  sires,  — 

The  dearest  spot  of  earth ; 
Teach  them  the  sacred  trust  to  keep. 

Like  true  men,  pure  and  brave, 
And  o'er  them,  through  the  ages,  bid 

Freedom's  fair  banner  wave. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      151 


THE  CIXCINNATAE. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  "  Woman's  Relief  Corps,  G.  A.  K,"  in  Boston, 
August,  1890,  the  author  of  "America  "  suggested  the  organization  of 
a  Society  similar  to  tliat  which,  under  the  name  of  "  Cincinnati "  repre- 
sents the  "  Sons  of  the  Revolution."  The  suggestion  was  entertained, 
and  the  following  responsive  tribute  was  written  upon  the  occasion. 

ROUSE  to  defend  the  land  ye  love. 
Ye  stalwart  men  and  brave  ; 
O'er  all  its  breadth,  from  sea  to  sea, 
Bid  Freedom's  banner  wave. 


They  heard,  they  stood,  in  serried  ranks 
They  marched  at  Freedom's  call ; 

One  hope  beat  high  in  every  heart, 
One  thought  inspired  them  all. 

Deep  in  the  furrow  where  it  sank, 
The  plough,  ungeared,  stood  still, 

Wliile  broader  plans  and  loftier  aims. 
Waited  the  freemen's  will. 

So  Cincinnatus  bravely  led 

His  Roman  soldiers,  true ; 
So,  fearless,  trod  through  fields  of  blood 

Our  Cincinnati  too. 

And  who  are  these,  of  finer  mould, 
With  loving  heart  and  hand, 

Alert  to  feel,  and  quick  to  help,  — 
A  noble  female  band  ? 


152  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

These  loving  hands  have  waved  farewell 

To  men  to  glory  led  ; 
These  loving  eyes,  with  bitter  tears, 

Have  wept  o'er  soldiers  dead. 

And  when  the  storm  of  battle  ceased, 
'T  was  theirs  to  weld  the  chain, 

Whose  broken  links  were  scattered  wide, 
In  brotherhood  again. 

Their  loving  voices  join  to  swell 

The  anthem  of  the  free ; 
Their  loving  lips,  harmonious,  sing, 

"My  country, 'tis  of  thee." 

Hail,  mothers,  daughters,  sisters,  wives 

Of  men  to  freedom  true ! 
The  land  redeemed  is  proud  to  claim 

Our  Cincinnatae,  too. 


THE   DAUGHTEES   OF   THE  AMEEICAN 
REVOLUTION. 

Written  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  Edward  Eoby,  of  Chicago,  on  the 
gift  of  an  autograph  copy  of  the  hymn  "  America,"  to  Miss  Eugenie 
Washington,  a  grand-niece  of  General  Washington,  in  connection  with 
the  First  Congress  of  the  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution, 
held  in  the  City  of  Washington,  June,  1892. 

THEY  gathered  from  the  south  and  north, 
The  mountains  and  the  sea. 
In  memory  of  the  men  who  died. 

Martyrs  of  liberty,  — 
Men  pledged  to  plant,  in  this  fair  land, 
A  nation  of  the  free ; 


PA  TRIO  TIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      153 

Who  gave  their  wealth,  who  gave  their  blood, 

And  gave  them  not  in  vain  ; 
And  history  spreads  its  halo  round 

Where  rest  the  patriot  slain. 
Where  Freedom's  glorious  spirit  throbbed, 

That  spirit  throbs  again. 

The  harvest  sown  in  blood  and  tears 

A  grateful  nation  reaps  ; 
A  hallowed  jubilee  of  love 

The  land  they  rescued  keeps, 
And  o'er  the  green  fields  where  they  died 

Its  fragrant  tribute  heaps. 

From  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north. 

From  tossing  sea  to  sea, 
They  breathe,  in  tones  that  love  inspires, 

"  Sweet  land  of  liberty," 
Singing,  in  joyful  harmony, 

"  My  country,  't  is  of  thee." 

The  daughters  of  the  good  and  brave 

Shall  keep  their  memory  well ; 
And  age  to  youth,  and  sire  to  son. 

The  grand  old  tale  shall  tell ; 
And  woman's  tears  shall  consecrate 

The  rich  fields  where  they  fell. 

I  see  them  where  above  them  bends 

The  one  o'er-arching  sky ; 
I  hear  the  tune  from  Northern  throats, 

I  hear  the  South  reply  : 
One  heart,  one  home,  one  pulse,  one  land; 

And  one,  we  live  or  die. 


154  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Sisters,  accept  this  grateful  pledge  ; 

Our  hopes,  our  hearts  are  one  ; 
Or  south,  or  north,  naught  shall  divide, 

We  live  beneath  one  sun. 
Peace  breathes,  in  ecstasy  of  love  ; 

The  goal  we  seek  is  won. 

Davenport,  Iowa,  March  4,  1893. 


oJOio 


FLING   OUT   THE  BANNER 

Fbom  verses  read  at  the  dinner  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  at 
Cambridge,  July  17,  1862. 

FLING  out  the  banner  on  the  breeze. 
Shake  out  each  starry  fold ; 
Summon  the  stalwart  soldiers  forth. 

The  mighty  and  the  bold,  — 
The  bell  of  Freedom  from  its  tower 
Its  solemn  call  has  tolled. 

Marshal  the  legions  for  the  fight, 

The  youthful  and  the  brave  ; 
Stand  for  the  noble  and  the  right. 

The  glorious  Union  save  ; 
Stand  for  the  cause  for  which  their  blood 

Our  patriot  fathers  gave. 

Above  the  clouds  the  brilliant  sky 

Shines  in  immortal  blue  ; 
And  light,  like  Heaven's  approving  smile. 

Streams  in  its  glory  through. 
Be  patient,  till  the  strife  is  o'er ; 

Have  faith  to  dare  and  do. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     155 

Bear  on  our  banner,  let  it  tell 

The  triumph  of  the  brave ; 
On  every  breeze  that  sweeps  our  hills, 

In  glory  let  it  wave, 
O'er  all  the  land,  o'er  all  our  streams, 

O'er  every  soldier's  grave. 

A  year  of  battles  !  not  in  vain 

This  contest  of  the  free  ; 
This  rousing  of  the  nation's  heart, 

Like  storms  that  rouse  the  sea,  — 
The  fiery  test  has  but  refined 

The  love  of  liberty. 

Then  fling  the  banner  to  the  wind, 

The  emblem  of  the  free  ; 
Strike  the  sweet  harp-tones  that  proclaim 

The  reign  of  liberty, 
And  bid  the  melody  rebound 

From  every  trembling  key. 

And  count  each  star  that  studs  the  blue, 

Whate'cr  the  past  has  been, 
A  wayward  wanderer  welcomed  back 

To  fill  its  place  again,  — 
A  loving  baud  of  sister-lights, 

Just  like  the  old  thirteen. 

Strike  not  one  jewel  from  the  crest 

The  loving  mother  wore ; 
Reset  the  gems  upon  her  breast, 

Each  where  it  shone  before ; 
Clasp  in  the  glorious  cynosure 

The  entire  dear  thirty-four. 


156  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


WAVE  THE  FLAG   ON  HIGH. 

Read  at  a  Flag-raising  in  Chelsea,  Mass.,  July  5,  1869. 

WAVE  the  new  flag,  exultant,  o'er  the  land ; 
Spread  out  its  folds  of  beauty  toward  the  sea ; 
Bid  softest  winds  its  blood-bought  charms  expand ; 
Hail  it  with  shouts,  —  the  banner  of  the  free ! 

Bears  it  the  brilliant  stripes  of  gleaming  white  ?  — 
Our  cause  is  righteous,  and  our  aim  is  pure. 

Bears  it  the  red  ?  —  we  battle  for  the  right ; 
Eed  blood  may  flow,  but  Freedom  shall  endure. 

Bears  it  the  blue  ?  —  to  Heaven,  our  high  appeal 
In  Christian  gratitude  and  faith  we  raise ; 

And  every  star,  a  new-made  State,  shall  seal 
Our  fervent  trust  in  God,  —  our  joyful  praise. 

Count  all  the  stars,  the  stripes,  —  both  white  and  red,  - 
Where'er  on  sea  or  land  the  flag  is  seen ; 

They  tell  how  God  our  growing  States  has  led,  — 
Stars,  thirty-seven,  and  stripes,  the  "  old  thirteen." 

Wave  then,  fair  banner  !  men  may  pass  away,  — 
No  mind  can  guess  the  changes  yet  to  be,  — 

But  thou,  in  beauty,  hold  thy  blessed  way, 
Our  flag  of  peace,  our  symbol  of  the  free. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      157 


THE   PINE   AND   THE  PALM. 

AN  ALLEGORY  OF  1861-65. 

ON  Northern  hills  where  bleak  winds  blow, 
And  crystalled  branches  twme, 
Stood,  in  its  never-fadmg  green, 

A  strong  and  stately  pine. 
The  evening  came  with  balmy  breath, 

And  gold  and  purple  dyes  ; 
And  glowing  noon  its  heat  diffused 

From  summer's  ardent  skies  ; 
And  tempests  roared,  with  crashing  might,  — 

But  little  cared  the  tree, 
Kocked  by  the  storms,  it  sang  for  joy 

Its  own  sweet  minstrelsy. 

On  sunnier  slopes,  in  milder  airs, 

In  endless  summer's  calm, 
In  fragrant  beauty  towered  on  high 

A  graceful,  nodding  palm ; 
Proudly  it  tossed  its  emerald  head, 

Wrapped  in  its  haughty  scorn, 
Like  roses  in  the  lovelit  bower, 

Girt  by  the  bristling  thorn. 

At  length  the  wmds  grew  fierce  and  loud, 

As  through  the  palm  they  sung, 
And  reddening  clouds  around  its  head 

A  fiery  lustre  hung ; 
An  angry  cadence  on  the  air 

Seemed  fitfully  to  float. 
And  pine  and  palm,  as  if  in  ire, 

With  wild,  discordant  note. 


158  POEMS  OF   COUNTRY. 

Driven  by  the  tempest,  answered  each, 

In  sounds  like  rushing  fire, 
As  if  some  demon  in  his  wrath 

Had  swept  his  breaking  lyre. 

The  sound  passed  on.     A  wreath  of  light 

Came  like  a  white-winged  dove  ; 
Hovered  like  angels  in  their  flight, 

A  messenger  of  love ; 
Waved  its  bright  form  o'er  pine  and  palm. 

And  touched  them  as  it  passed,  — 
The  storm  was  laid,  and  notes  of  love 

Came  singing  on  the  blast. 

The  flaming  cloud  dissolved  in  air ; 

It  lost  its  fiery  hue. 
And  quenched  the  crimson  of  its  cheek 

In  heaven's  immortal  blue  ; 
Peace  shed  again  along  the  hills 

Its  breath  of  fragrant  balm,  — ■ 
The  waving  palm-tree  blessed  the  pine. 

The  waving  pine,  the  palm. 


THE   MOENING   COMETH. 

These  verses  were  written  in  1862,  under  the  never-faltering  con- 
viction that  out  of  battle-struggle  would  come  a  crowning  peace  which 
would  bind  in  closer  bonds  than  ever  a  reconciled  and  prosperous 
people. 

IT  IS  COMING,  it  is  coming  ! 
As  comes  the  blessed  rain, 
When  the  burning  heat  and  dryness 
Have  scorched  the  waving  grain. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     159 

We  hail  the  early  promise,  — 

'T  is  uot  in  vaiu  to  wait ; 
If  the  help  serves  God's  great  purpose, 

It  never  comes  too  late. 


It  is  coming,  it  is  coming. 

As  comes  the  blessed  dew 
On  the  weary,  fainting  flowers 

When  the  noun-tide  heat  is  through  ; 
It  comes  in  silent  sweetness, 

To  comfort  and  to  bless,  — 
We  never  hear  its  coming. 

But  it  blesses  none  the  less. 


It  is  coming,  it  is  coming  ! 

As  the  giant,  rested,  wakes. 
As  o'er  the  distant  hill-tops 

The  morning  redness  breaks. 
While  the  soldier  on  his  picket, 

His  solemn  vigil  keeps. 
The  light  already  glimmers 

On  the  highest  rugged  steeps. 


It  is  coming,  yes,  't  is  coming ! 

But,  0  prophet,  poet,  when  ? 
We  have  lavished  forth  like  water. 

Our  treasure  and  our  men. 
We  watch  the  cloudy  pillar 

That  guides  our  devious  way, 
And,  blinded  in  the  darkness, 

God  bids  our  faith  delay. 


160  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

It  is  coming,  it  is  comiag ! 

Love  can  calm  the  maddened  brain, 
And  the  palm-tree,  and  the  pine-tree. 

Interlace  their  boughs  again  ; 
The  corn  and  cotton  ripen 

For  the  loyal  and  the  brave, 
And  free  men  till  the  acres 

Of  a  land  without  a  slave. 


It  is  coming,  it  is  coming, 

Peace  o'er  all  the  land  shall  rest, 
With  a  glory  and  a  beauty 

Like  evening  in  the  west ; 
The  noon-tide  brightness  lingers. 

But  God  can  give  it  glow ; 
The  forest  sleeps  in  acorns, 

But  God  can  make  it  grow. 


o>«o 


MEMOEIAL  HONOES. 

GRATEFUL,  the  pious  feast  we  keep 
In  memory  of  the  dead  ; 
And,  where  the  valiant  soldiers  sleep. 
Strew  honors  o'er  their  bed. 


As  spring-flowers  deck  the  silent  earth, 

As  stars  the  skies  illume, 
These  loving  tributes,  lo  !  we  bring 

To  grace  each  hallowed  tomb. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      161 

The  land  they  saved  their  honor  keeps, 

While  dark  oppression  cowers  ; 
And  every  tear  affection  weeps 

Is  crystalled  into  flowers. 

The  deeds  they  wrought ;  the  truths  they  sealed  ; 

Their  memory,  dear  in  death, — 
Are  fragrant  as  the  blooming  held, 

Or  summer's  perfumed  breath  ! 

God  of  the  living  and  the  dead, 

Like  amaranths  on  the  tomb. 
The  trust  for  which  their  blood  was  shed 

Keep  in  immortal  bloom. 


oJ»Cc 


THE  EVE   OF  DECORATION  DAY. 

In  the  parlor  of  one  of  the  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution 
several  young  ladies  sang  as  tliey  made  wreaths  for  the  following  day, 
and  these  stanzas  record  the  incident. 

SWEET  in  the  innocence  of  youth. 
Born  of  the  brave  and  free, 
They  wove  fair  garlands  while  they  sang, 

"  My  country,  't  is  of  thee ; " 
How  every  bosom  swelled  with  joy,     ^ 

And  thrilled  with  grateful  pride, 
As,  fond,  the  whispering  cadence  breathed, 
"  Land  where  my  fathers  died." 

Fair  flowers  in  sweet  bouquets  they  tied,  — 
Breaths  from  the  vales  and  hills,  — 

While  childish  voices  poured  the  strain, 
"  I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills ; " 
11 


162  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Each  face  grew  radiant  with  the  thought, 

"  Land  of  the  noble  free ; " 
Each  voice  seemed  reverent,  as  it  trilled 

"  Sweet  land  of  liberty." 

And  bud,  and  bloom,  and  leaf  they  bound, 

And  bade  the  living  keep, 
Unharmed  and  pure,  the  cherished  graves 

Where  brave  men  calmly  sleep. 
And  thus  while  infant  lips  begin 

To  lisp  "  sweet  Freedom's  song," 
Manhood's  deep  tones,  from  age  to  age, 

Shall  still  "  the  sound  prolong." 

I  hailed  the  promise  of  the  scene ; 

Gladness  was  in  the  strain  ; 
The  glorious  land  is  safe,  while  love 

Still  swells  the  fond  refrain. 
And  what  shall  be  our  sure  defence, 

Who  guards  our  liberty  ? 
Not  men,  not  arms  alone,  —  we  look, 

"  Our  fathers'  God,  to  Thee." 

DECOKATION   DAY. 

[Tune  :  "  Keller's  American  Hymii."} 

STEEW  the  fair  garlands  where  slumber  the  dead ; 
King  out  the  strains,  like  the  swell  of  the  sea,  — 
Heartfelt  the  tribute  we  lay  on  each  bed. 
Sound  o'er  the  brave  the  refrain  of  the  free ; 
Sound  the  refrain  of  the  loyal  and  free ; 
Visit  each  sleeper  and  hallow  each  bed ;  — 

Waves  the  starred  banner  from  sea-coast  to  sea,  — 
Grateful  the  living,  and  honored  the  dead. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     163 

Dear  to  each  heart  are  the  names  of  the  brave ; 

Besting  in  glory,  how  sweetly  they  sleep ; 
Dewdrops  at  evening  fall  soft  on  each  grave, 

Kindred  and  strangers  bend  fondly  to  weep,  — 

Kindred  bend  fondly  and  drooping  eyes  weep 
Tears  of  affection  o'er  every  green  grave ; 

Fresh  are  their  laurels  and  peaceful  their  sleep ; 
Love  still  shall  cherish  the  noble  and  brave. 

Peace  o'er  this  land,  o'er  these  homes  of  the  free, 
Brood  evermore  with  her  sheltering  wing. 

God  of  the  nation,  our  trust  is  in  Thee  ; 

God,  our  Protector,  our  Guide,  and  our  King, 
God,  our  Protector,  our  Guide,  and  our  King, 

Thou  art  our  refuge,  our  hope  is  in  Thee  ; 

Strong  in  Thy  blessing,  and  safe  'neath  Thy  wing. 

Peace  shall  encircle  these  homes  of  the  free. 


•;•<« 


PRECIOUS   LIVES. 

BEEATHE  balmy  airs,  ye  fragrant  flowers. 
O'er  every  silent  sleeper's  head ; 
Ye  crystal  dews  and  summer  showers, 
Dress  in  fresh  green  each  lowly  bed. 

Strew  loving  offerings  o'er  the  brave. 

Their  country's  joy,  their  country's  pride ; 

For  us  their  precious  lives  they  gave ; 
For  Freedom's  sacred  cause  they  died. 

Each  cherished  name  its  place  shall  hold, 
Like  stars  that  gem  the  azure  sky ; 

Their  deeds,  on  history's  page  enrolled. 
Are  sealed  for  immortality. 


164  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Long,  where  on  Glory's  field  they  fell, 
May  Freedom's  spotless  banner  wave  ; 

And  fragrant  tributes,  grateful,  tell. 

Where  live  the  free,  —  where  sleep  the  brave. 

Bridgepobt,  Conn.,  1865. 

CHEEISHED  NAMES. 

WE  wreathe  with  flowers  the  peaceful  graves, 
Where  low  our  fallen  comrades  sleep ; 
While  sunbeams  smile,  and  verdure  waves. 
And  dews  of  evening  o'er  them  weep. 

Honored  and  loved,  each  cherished  name ; 

In  vain,  ye  have  not  lived  nor  died  ; 
A  grateful  country  keeps  your  fame,  — 

A  sacred  trust,  —  her  joy  and  pride. 

God  bless  the  land  ye  nobly  saved,  — 
Where'er  your  blood  has  left  its  stain. 

Where'er  your  conquering  banners  waved, 
May  peace  prevail  and  Freedom  reign. 

QUE  FALLEN   COMRADES. 

SOFTLY,  their  labors  done,  the  patriots  rest, 
Honored  in  life,  and  in  their  memory  blest : 
Living,  they  earned  and  won  a  glorious  name  ; 
Dying,  they  found  at  once  immortal  fame. 
Spring  o'er  their  relics  strews  its  fragrant  flowers. 
Smiles  in  the  sunshine,  weeps  in  dews  and  showers  ; 
And  summer  spreads  its  freshest,  sweetest  bloom. 
Green  as  their  memory,  o'er  their  honored  tomb. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     165 

And  Nature  wraps  around  them,  where  they  rest, 

The  dear  old  flag,  in  dyes  she  loves  the  best : 

Blue,  in  the  starry  arch  that  bends  above, 

Like  mothers  bowed  to  kiss  the  babes  they  love ; 

White,  when  the  earth  is  mantled  o'er  with  snow, 

A  bridal  honor  for  the  brave  below  ; 

And  red,  when  round  their  couch  sweet  autumn  weaves 

A  burnished  beauty  with  her  fiery  leaves. 

The  glorious  banner  wraps  the  rolling  year. 

And  spreads  its  folds  around  the  sleepers  here ; 

As  thousands  weep  the  heroes  who  have  bled, 

For  each  a  tear,  a  blessing  on  each  head. 

From  granite  crypts  kind  Nature  fondly  rears 

The  pillar  hewed  by  love,  and  wet  with  tears, 

The  fitting  record  of  the  men  who  stood 

True  to  the  right,  'mid  fire  and  death  and  blood ; 

And  history  writes  their  names  liigh  on  her  scroll. 

Heroes  of  granite  will,  but  loving  soul. 

Stand,  massive  record,  as  the  heroes  stood, 

A  tower  of  strength,  when  blood  cried  out  for  blood. 

The  names  engraven  on  the  rock  are  thine  ; 

The  men  who  bore  them,  grateful  hearts  enshrine. 

Dewdrop,  and  rain,  and  grateful  tear  may  dry; 

But  noble  deeds,  once  done,  can  never  die. 

Though  marble,  shattered,  may  betray  its  trust. 

And  pile  and  column  crumble  into  dust. 

Heroic  deeds  a  deathless  pile  shall  raise ; 

A  land  redeemed  preserves  their  lasting  praise. 

Not  here  alone  their  monument  is  reared. 

To  memory  sacred,  and  by  love  endeared ; 

Where'er  the  oppressed  the  bonds  of  sorrow  wear, 

Wliere'er  the  slave  lifts  up  his  humble  prayer, 

Their  high  memorial  lives,  in  fetters  riven,  — 

A  pile  whose  base  is  earth,  whose  crown  is  heaven. 


166  POEMS   OF   COUNTRY. 

These  were  the  men  who  firm  in  battle  stood ; 
The  men  who  shrunk  not  from  the  flame  or  flood ; 
Who  gave  to  Freedom's  cause  their  noblest  powers,  — 
Born  for  the  nation's  need,  they  died  for  ours. 
Weep  for  their  memory  !  —  would  they  had  not  died  ! 
Sing  for  their  memory !  —  't  is  the  nation's  pride. 
They  bore  the  toil ;  they  earned  the  grand  eclat ; 
Proclaim  their  memory  with  the  glad  hurrah  ! 


No  hostile  foot  this  sacred  soil  shall  tread ; 
No  hostile  banner  wave  above  the  dead ; 
No  warlike  clarion  break  their  sweet  repose. 
Calm  as  the  dewdrops,  resting  on  the  rose,  — 
But  grateful  tears  their  relics  shall  bedew ; 
The  loved,  the  brave,  the  trusted  and  the  true, 
Mothers  and  maidens,  gathered  round  the  tomb, 
Shall  sigh,  and  sing  the  soldier's  welcome  home ; 
Mourning  the  fallen,  —  to  their  country  given,  — 
With  sweet  will  yielding  to  the  will  of  Heaven. 
"  0  grief  unspeakable  !  "  —  yet  Faith  can  see 
Eifts  in  the  cloud  ;  "  Our  country,  't  is  for  thee," 
And  thus  resigned,  with  calm  and  holy  trust, 
Mother  and  maiden  leave  the  hallowed  dust, 
With  woman's  faithful  heart  their  grief  refrain. 
Willing  to  make  fresh  sacrifice  again. 

Breathe  soft,  0  winds,  around  this  treasured  trust ; 
Keep,  holy  earth,  this  loved  and  honored  dust ; 
Sing  your  sweet  pseans,  birds  of  varied  wing,  — 
In  heaven's  free  air,  let  warbled  freedom  ring. 
Keep  nightly  watch,  ye  stars,  above  their  bed, 
Teaching  the  living,  smiling  o'er  the  dead ; 
Though  hid  by  tempests,  gently  still  ye  shine, 
Keeping  in  heaven's  blue  field  your  march  divine. 


PA  TRIO  TIC  EXAMPLES  AND  IN  CENT  1 1  'ES.      167 

Though  clouds  may  darken,  though  the  tempest  lowers, 
Heavea  keeps  its  stars  unharmed,  as  we  shall  ours ; 
Clouds  cannot  quench  them ;    God's  great  word  once 

given. 
Their  light  shall  flash  again,  full  in  mid-heaven  ; 
And  every  star  that  keeps  its  shining  way 
Glimmers  prophetic  of  the  coming  day. 
Lift  your  tall  crests,  ye  trees,  in  verdant  pride, 
A  hundred  storms  your  sturdy  trunks  have  tried  ; 
Tempests  have  beat  in  fury  round  your  head, 
But  still  ye  cheer  the  living,  shade  the  dead. 
So  when  the  raging  blast  has  spent  its  power, 
And  clouds  no  more  in  angry  blackness  lower, 
The  nation,  saved,  shall  bloom  in  peace  anew ; 
Its  genial  shades  the  weary  pilgrim  woo ; 
Thousands  repose  beneath  each  sheltering  bough, 
Made  stronger  by  the  blasts  that  toss  it  now ; 
The  anxious  watcher  mourn  no  kindred  slain  ; 
The  soldier  seek  his  home  and  babes  again ; 
The  sword  be  sheathed,  and  war's  dread  tumult  cease ; 
And  spotless  banners  wave  in  joy  and  peace. 

Chicago,  —  Decoration  Day. 

BURIAL  OF  GENERAL  GRANT. 

TAKE  from  our  hands,  0  faithful  earth, 
And  safely  keep  this  treasured  trust ! 
The  land  redeemed  proclaims  his  worth, 
The  nation  weeps  his  honored  dust. 

Unnumbered  tongues  his  deeds  shall  praise ; 

Unnumbered  hearts  revere  his  name ; 
His  crown,  a  wreath  which  ne'er  decays, 

His  fame  is  an  immortal  fame. 


168  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Love  hovers  round  his  funeral  urn  ; 

A  nation's  banner  o'er  him  waves,  — 
So  slept  the  ancient  heroes,  borne 

With  regal  pomp  to  honored  graves. 

Rest,  patriot,  soldier,  calmly  rest ! 

No  sound  thy  deep  repose  shall  break, 
Till  the  day  dawn  in  glory  dressed, 

Till  the  immortal  morning  wake. 

August  18,  1885. 

THE   STUDENT   SOLDIERS. 

HARVARD'S  DEAD. 

THEY  fought  on  many  a  crimsoned  field  ; 
They  sleep  in  many  a  glen  ; 
They  marched  to  glory  and  to  death, 

And  came  not  home  again  : 
But  Science  claims  them  for  her  roll,  — 
Her  roll  of  honored  men. 

Some  in  the  sunny  days  of  youth. 

And  some  in  ripening  age. 
Went  forth,  with  valiant  hearts  and  hopes, 

To  breast  the  conflict's  rage  ; 
And  history  every  name  records 

On  her  immortal  page. 

Weep  at  the  shrines  where  once  they  knelt. 

And  where  the  heroes  sleep  ; 
Weep  where  the  funeral  pomp  proceeds  ; 

At  vacant  firesides,  weep. 
When  did  thy  sickle,  mighty  Death, 

So  precious  harvests  reap  ? 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      169 

And  sing  a  poean  o'er  their  dust, 
A  requiem  for  the  brave ; 

Sing  hymus  of  cheerful  melody- 
Above  each  soldier's  grave ; 

In  solemn  joy,  with  festal  folds, 
Let  the  old  banners  wave. 

Freedom  on  every  bloody  field, 

Through  them,  new  triumphs  won  ; 

Her  honored  wreaths  are  on  the  brow 
Of  every  favorite  son  ; 

And  age  is  reckoned,  not  by  years. 
But  deeds  of  valor  done. 

While  Fame  inscribes  ten  thousand  names 

Along  her  pillared  nave. 
Of  patriot-sons,  and  sires  who  sleep 

In  Glory's  star-gemmed  grave, 
Of  all  the  list  fair  Science  claims 

The  bravest  of  the  brave. 

JanOABT  8,  1864. 


oKHc 


AFTER  THE  SOLDIER'S  FUNERAL. 

AND  so  we  hide  our  dead  in  silent  shade, 
And  hasten  back  to  life,  and  life's  parade ; 
Plunge  into  duty,  grind  in  labor's  mill. 
Till  the  eye  sees  not,  and  the  heart  is  still ; 
Weep  each  reverse  and  shout  each  victory. 
And  breathe  our  benisons,  dear  flag,  on  thee. 
Living  or  dying,  nation  of  the  free. 
Our  hopes,  our  hearts,  our  lives,  are  all  with  thee. 


170  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


"SLEEP,   COMEADES,   SLEEP!" 

IN  thousand  shaded  valleys, 
On  thousand  sunny  hills. 
In  thousands  of  still  alleys, 

Beside  the  rippling  rills,  — 
Who,  who  can  tell  the  numbers 

Of  green  graves  where  they  sleep  ? 
But  peace  breathes  o'er  their  slumbers ; 
Love  shall  their  ashes  keep. 

Sleep,  comrades,  in  your  glory ! 

Sweet  be  your  honored  rest ; 
Thousands  shall  tell  the  story 

How  ye,  your  high  behest, 
Bravely  in  love  fulfilling, 

Gave  up  your  lives,  to  be 
A  sacrifice  most  willing,  — 

The  seal  of  liberty. 

Oft  as  the  spring-time,  breathing 

Sweet  odors  from  fair  flowers. 
With  dewy  pearls  comes,  wreathing 

Our  bright  and  peaceful  bowers, 
We  bring  the  first  and  fairest. 

In  honor  to  the  brave,  — 
The  choicest  and  the  rarest, 

To  deck  the  soldier's  grave. 

God  of  our  country,  o'er  us 
Thy  shield  of  glory  spread  ! 

Go  Thou  in  love  before  us  ; 
Direct  the  paths  we  tread. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      171 

Faitliful  in  every  duty, 

To  us  Thy  grace  be  giveu, 
And  then,  the  crownmg  beauty 

Of  fadeless  wreaths  in  heaven. 


"LIVING   STILL." 

FOR  THE  CLASS  OF  1829. 

BROKEN  and  bruised,  from  fields  of  strife, 
A  remnant  saved  retires,  — 
Few,  but  still  warm  with  their  young  life,  — 

To  stir  the  old  campfires  ; 
How  many  marched  with  banners  gay. 

Who  now,  among  the  slain. 
Sleep  their  last  sleep  at  setting  day, 
And  come  no  more  again  ! 

o 

We  con  the  old  familiar  list 

Of  boys,  grown  gray-haired  men  ; 
Names  and  old  faces,  long  time  missed. 

We  see  them,  —  boys  again. 
The  ancient  roll,  whose  magic  date 

Falls  pleasant  on  the  ear. 
Rich  as  an  argosy,  its  freight 

Grows  richer  every  year. 

Dear  is  the  roll  of  fresh  young  hearts 

Which  started  for  the  fray. 
Eager  and  strong,  their  honored  parts, 

On  life's  broad  field  to  play. 
Fond  memory  wakes  them,  —  each  and  all ; 

We  call  them,  name  by  name  ; 
Or  long  to  stand,  or  soon  to  fall. 

They  come  as  erst  they  came. 


172  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

While  spring-time  lingered  in  our  sky, 

Some  early  passed  away  ; 
Some,  when  the  sun  of  life  rode  high, 

And  poured  his  noontide  ray  ; 
And  some  —  as  autumn  fruits,  more  late. 

In  mellow  ripeness  fall  — 
Fell,  —  and  like  watchers  at  the  gate. 

The  rest  await  the  call. 


Unchanged  on  memory's  scroll  they  live,  — 

Each  face  and  form  we  see ; 
Time,  which  mars  all  things,  does  but  give 

Our  dreams  intensity ; 
Like  paintings  which  old  mouldings  guard, 

Drawn  with  a  master's  skill, 
Kanged  in  old  catalogues,  and  starred. 

To  us  they  're  living  still. 


ol<«C 


ON  THE  ERECTION   OF  A   SOLDIERS' 
MONUMENT. 

TAKE  these  choice  treasures,  gentle  earth. 
And  shield  them  in  thy  faithful  breast, 
Gathered  like  gems  of  priceless  worth, 
And  brought  among  thy  dead  to  rest. 

Take  this  new  honor  reared  in  love, 
Wliere  sleep  the  trusted  and  the  brave, 

Pointing  the  mourner's  faith  above, 
To  Him  who  takes,  to  Him  who  gave. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.      173 

Round  this  fair  shaft  let  summer  leave 
Its  fragrant  airs,  at  morn  and  even, 

And  golden  clouds  in  sunlight  weave 
Pathways  of  glory  into  heaven. 

Again  the  flag  of  peace  shall  float 
O'er  all  the  land  from  sea  to  sea ; 

O'er  all  the  land  shall  swell  the  note 
Of  Freedom's  final  Jubilee. 

We  build  the  shrine,  we  sing  the  brave, 
Yet  own  how  vain  are  human  boasts ; 

In  God  alone  is  power  to  save,  — 
Our  trust  is  in  the  Lord  of  hosts. 

Newton,  April,  1864. 


o^»io 


MEMORIAL  HYMN.^ 

[Tune  :  Italian  Hymn.] 

THE  God  of  battles  praise  ; 
Pteans  of  honor  raise, 
"With  heart  and  song. 
God  is  our  shield  and  tower, 
Our  strength  in  danger's  hour ; 
To  Him  all  might  and  power 
And  praise  belong. 

1  Dedication  of  the  Monument  of  the  32(i  Massachusetts  Regiment, 
at  Gettysburg,  September  8,  1894. 


174  POEMS   OF   COUNTRY. 

Here,  0  memorial,  stand,  — 
Here,  where  the  patriot  band 

Battled  so  well; 
Here,  where  the  nation's  pride 
The  rushing  storm  defied  ; 
Here,  where  the  true  and  tried, 

Unconquered,  fell. 

Tears  for  the  loved  and  lost ; 
Joy  for  the  land  which  cost 

Such  sacrifice. 
Fond  memory,  grateful,  weeps 
Where  each  dead  martyr  sleeps, 
And  love  her  vigil  keeps,  — 

Love  never  dies. 

Sound,  glorious  trump  of  fame, 
Salute  each  honored  name. 

Praise  for  the  brave  : 
Tell  what  high  deeds  were  done. 
What  triumphs  Freedom  won,  — 
God  was  then-  help  alone, 

Mighty  to  save. 


DjOiO 


THE   ILLINOIS   NINETEENTH   EEGIMENT 
AND   CAPTAIN   BEEMNER 

A  SONG  of  the  Highland  Guards, 
Souls  brave  and  true. 
Born  for  the  times  of  bitter  strife. 
When  in  the  balance  hung 
The  nation's  life ; 
And  men  inspired  to  dare  and  do 
Resolved  to  press  the  conflict  through. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     175 

A  song  of  the  Highland  Guards, 

Prompt  and  prepared ; 
First  to  espouse  the  righteous  cause, 

First  rising  to  defend 
The  laud,  the  laws. 
With  patriot  hearts  and  bosoms  bared, 
What  toils  they  bore  !     What  hardships  shared ! 

A  song  of  the  brave  Nineteenth, 

Noted  and  known, 
With  them  the  noble  Highland  Guard, 

Eager  for  honor's  post. 
Kept  watch  and  ward,  — 
Foremost  for  deeds  of  glory  done. 
For  battles  fought,  for  victories  won. 

A  song  for  the  brave  Nineteenth 

And  Bremuer's  Band ; 
Huntsville  and  Mission  Kidge  their  praise. 

How  oft  they  saved  the  day 
In  fierce  affrays  ! 
Victor  and  vanquished,  hand  to  hand. 
Mighty  to  fight,  or  firm  to  stand. 

A  song  for  the  brave  Nineteenth,  — 
Calls,  loud  and  long. 

Summon  the  bravest  to  the  front. 

"Where  is  the  old  Nineteenth  ?" 
Listen  !  their  song  ! 
They  muster,  prompt  to  do  or  die,  — 
They  come  1  they  strike !  —  The  foemen  fly  ! 

A  song  for  the  brave  Nineteenth  ; 
The  colors  vrave 


176  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Where  shell  and  shot,  —  a  cruel  rain, 
Smite  down  —  once,  twice,  again 
The  true,  the  brave. 
The  men  who  bore  the  flag  may  die ; 
But  Bremner  waves  its  folds  on  high. 


o'ifHc 


THE  TWENTY-FIFTH  G.  A.  R.  ENCAMPMENT, 

1893. 

THEY  came  from  many  a  happy  home. 
Those  brave  and  valiant  men, 
From  palace,  cottage,  shop,  and  farm, 

From  mountain,  vale,  and  glen, 
Keady  to  save  the  land,  or  die, 
And  ne'er  return  again. 

They  learned,  in  their  young  life,  to  love 

The  anthem  of  the  free  ; 
One  theme  their  childish  souls  inspired,  — 

The  tale  of  liberty ; 
Joyful,  their  infant  lips  had  sung 

"  My  country,  't  is  of  thee." 

They  came  by  thousands,  as  the  tides 

Into  the  harbor  pour ; 
Each  brow  was  set,  each  stalwart  form 

The  air  of  purpose  wore. 
They  answered  to  the  call,  "  We  come, 

Three  hundred  thousand  more." 


PA  TRIO  TIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTI VES.     177 

Fearless,  they  faced  the  rushing  storm,  — 

Sons  of  the  brave  and  free ; 
In  summer's  heat  and  winter's  chill, 

Ahke  on  land  and  sea. 
Their  souls  were  throbbing  with  the  pulse 

Of  love  and  liberty. 

Firm  on  the  fields  of  mortal  strife 

In  serried  ranks  they  stood, 
Patient  to  bear,  patient  to  wait, 

Alike  in  fire  and  fiood. 
"  The  Union  must,  —  it  shall,  —  be  saved 

Though  it  should  cost  our  blood." 

Some  in  the  bloom  of  early  youth, 

Slain  in  the  battle,  fell ; 
Some  found  again  their  happy  homes, 

Where  peace  and  freedom  dwell,  — 
But  wreathed  as  conquerors,  or  dead. 

We  love  them  still,  —  't  is  well. 

Some  with  their  cherished  kindred  sleep. 

Some  in  an  unmarked  grave, 
Enriching  by  their  honored  dust 

The  land  they  died  to  save ; 
And  wild  birds  and  the  sighing  wind 

Chant  requiems  o'er  the  brave. 

0  land,  the  best  of  all  the  lands 

On  which  the  sun  has  shone. 
The  purest,  noblest  heritage 

The  sons  of  men  have  known. 
Still  hold  thy  reign  from  sea  to  sea. 

In  queenly  grace,  alone. 

12 


178  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Blest  be  the  men  whose  fervent  faith, 

Unwavering,  met  the  gale  ; 
Who  passed  the  storm  of  war,  unscathed, 

And  live  to  tell  the  tale, 
Men  of  our  love,  our  hearts,  our  hopes,  — 

Hail,  the  Grand  Army,  hail ! 

Peace  spreads  her  angel  wings  abroad 

From  sea  to  distant  sea  ; 
O'er  all  the  land  one  banner  floats, 

The  flag  of  liberty  ; 
And  all  her  millions  swell  one  strain,  — 

The  chorus  of  the  free. 


"^•ic 


THE   VETEEANS. 

SAD,  but  yet  glad,  our  thoughts  recall 
The  days  of  woe,  and  blood,  and  strife. 
When  thousands  rushed,  to  stand,  or  fall, 
For  Freedom  and  the  nation's  life. 

Hunger  and  thirst,  and  leaden  hail, 

And  frost,  and  heat,  and  rain,  and  dew, 

And  hopes  deferred,  like  springs  that  fail 
In  summer's  drought,  our  forces  knew. 

The  hurried  march,  the  lonely  rest ; 

The  trenches  where  we  laid  our  dead ; 
The  tangled  paths  our  footsteps  pressed ; 

The  arms  that  ached,  the  feet  that  bled ; 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     179 

The  picket,  on  his  silent  beat ; 

The  foeman's  gun  with  stealthy  flash  ; 
The  fields  where  men  were  mowed  like  wheat ; 

The  sweeping  cannon's  deadly  crash,  — 


How  vi\ddly  they  all  return,  — 

Scenes  which  the  soul  can  ne'er  forget ! 

Like  quenchless  watch-fires  still  they  burn, 
'T  was  there  that  death  and  glory  met. 

0  land  we  love,  united  land  ! 

O'er  thee  one  flag  of  freedom  waves  ; 
Living,  our  hosts  one  people  stand, 

And  freemen  sleep  in  freemen's  graves. 

In  God  we  trust,  —  our  fathers'  God ; 

Our  people  spread  from  sea  to  sea ; 
We  hear  Thy  voice,  we  heed  Thy  nod ; 

Keep  us  one  people,  brave  and  free. 

Speak  to  our  hearts  in  peace  and  love ; 

Lead  us  as  by  the  prophet's  rod ; 
Our  honor  one,  0,  let  us  prove 

One  land,  one  people,  for  one  God ! 

Mat  24,  1S91. 


180  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 

This  Memorial  Poem  was  written  for  the  Twentieth  Anniversary  of 
the  death  of  President  Lincoln,  Springfield,  Elinois,  April  15th,  1885. 

HEROIC  Statesman,  hail ! 
Thy  honored  name, 
With  instrument  and  song,  we  laud, 

And  poets  lays ; 
How  every  mountain  top,  and  sheltered  vale, 

And  rock  and  stream. 
And  lisping  tongue  of  infancy  and  age. 

And  manhood's  prime  and  woman's  love, 
Combine  thy  honored  name  to  praise ! 

As  to  Anchises'  tomb. 
With  reverent  love,  pious  .^neas  came. 

Intent,  with  festal  rites 

To  crown  his  father's  fame,  — 
So  we,  with  grateful  reverence,  come  to  pay 
This  loving  tribute  at  the  sacred  shrine, 

The  statesman  wise,  the  martyr  prince, 
The  peerless  man, 
And  on  his  tomb  our  fragrant  garlands  lay. 

Like  the  wild  eagle's  fhght. 

When  from  his  rocky  height, 
Down  on  the  plain  he  swoops,  free  as  the  air,  — 

Born  with  a  soul  of  fire, 
Born  to  be  free. 
Patient  in  toil,  and  danger,  and  alarm, 

He  ventured  all  for  love  of  liberty. 

And  helped  the  lowly  in  that  bliss  to  share. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     181 

Grandly  he  loved  and  lived ; 

Not  his  own  age  alone 
Bears  the  proud  impress  of  his  sovereign  mind. 

Down  the  long  march  of  history, 

Ages  and  men  shall  see 

Wliat  one  great  soul  can  be, 

What  one  great  soul  can  do. 

To  make  a  nation  true,  — 
To  raise  the  weak, 
The  lost  to  seek. 
To  be  a  ruler  and  a  father  too ; 

No  scheming  tool, 

No  slave  to  godless  rule. 
Gracious,  efficient,  meek,  sublime,  refined. 


Ambitious,  —  not  of  wealth. 
Nor  power,  nor  place  ; 
His  aim,  a  nobler  race  ; 
His  title  eminent,  —  An  honest  man. 
His,  to  lift  up  the  rude ; 
His,  to  be  great  as  good, 

And  good  as  great ; 
His,  to  stem  error's  flood ; 
His,  but  to  help  and  bless ; 
His,  to  work  righteousness, 
And  save  the  state. 


Brave,  self-reliant,  wise. 
Calm  in  emergencies. 
Steady,  alike,  to  wait,  and  prompt  to  move  ; 
In  counsel,  great  and  safe ; 

Prudent  to  plan ; 
Bighteous  to  deal  with  sin  ; 
Prone,  less  to  force  than  win ; 


182  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

Strong  in  his  own  stern  will,  and  strong  in  God ; 
Conquering,  alone,  to  bless,  — 
A  loving  man. 


Firm,  but  yet  merciful ; 

In  pity  bountiful ; 
Calmly  considerate,  serenely  just ; 
Nobly  forgiving  to  the  fallen  foe,  — 
He,  the  meek  sufferer  from  Oppression's  blow, 

Kepaying  ill  with  good. 

E'en  as  the  sandal-wood 
Bathes  with  rare  perfume  the  sharp  axe  that  smites ; 

Unflinching  for  the  right, 
Whate'er  might  come, 

And,  until  death. 
Fervent,  decided,  faithful  to  his  trust. 

Great  souls  can  never  die : 

Death  and  decay's  damp  fingers 

Waste  but  the  mortal ; 
A  nobler  life  spreads  its  far  vista  wide. 
Beyond  death's  portal. 

Like  an  unfading  light 

The  life  work  lingers. 
The  hero  dies  ;  statesman  and  soldier  fall ; 

The  nation  finds  new  life, 
And  prosperous  years,  and  wealth,  and  peace, 

And  hearts  at  rest,  and  grander  aims. 

And  righteousness. 

And  souls  that  dare  to  be. 

Just  as  God  made  them,  —  free ; 
And  he  who  falls,  crushed  in  the  bitter  strife, 
Lives  magnified,  exalted,  ever  lives ; 

His  work  bears  fruit  immortal. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     183 

So  the  great  sun,  majestic,  ploughs  his  way- 
Through  clouds,  and  storms,  and  dim  eclipse, 

And  winter's  cold  and  summer's  heat ; 
And,  nightly,  dips 
His  flaming  disc  in  the  broad  western  sea, 
But  scatters  light  and  blessing  all  the  day. 

Setting,  he  leaves  the  world 
Eicher  and  better  for  his  light  and  love  ; 

Warmer,  more  fertile,  more  benign ; 
Sets,  but  to  rise,  on  other  lands,  and  shine 

Forever,  in  the  galaxy  divine. 

Spbimofield,  III. 


A  CENTUEY  HYMN.     1789-1889. 

This  Hymn  was  written  to  be  sung  at  the  Celebration  of  the  100th 
Anniversary  of  the  Inauguration  of  Washington  as  President  of  the 
United  States,  —  April  30,  1889. 

STEENGTHENED  and  trained  by  toil  and  tears. 
Born  of  the  bold,  the  brave  and  free, 
A  nation,  with  its  hundred  years, 
Its  tribute  brings,  0  God,  to  Thee. 

"What  blessings,  from  Thy  sovereign  hand, 
What  trials,  has  the  century  brought ! 

How  has  this  free  and  glorious  land 
Been  loved,  defended,  led,  and  taught ! 

Our  cautious  feet,  by  night,  by  day, 
Slowly  the  upward  path  have  trod ; 

God  was  our  light,  and  God  our  stay. 
In  flood  and  fire,  in  grief  and  blood. 


184  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

So  the  brave  oak,  in  calm  and  storm, 

Spreads  its  strong  roots  and  boughs  abroad, 

Grows  grand  ia  grace,  and  stalwart  form. 
Honored  of  men,  and  loved  of  God. 

The  century  ends,  —  our  hosts  in  peace 
Hold  the  broad  land,  from  sea  to  sea ; 

And  every  tongue,  and  every  breeze 
Breathes  the  sweet  anthem  of  the  free. 

Still  may  the  banner  of  thy  love 

O'er  all  our  land  in  glory  rest, 
Our  Heaven-appointed  ^gis  prove. 

And  make  the  coming  centuries  blest. 

And  every  star  that  gems  the  blue. 
And  every  field  for  Freedom  won. 

Shall  tell  of  heroes,  firm  and  true. 
And  swell  the  fame  of  Washington. 


For  the  same  occasion  the  foUowmg  stanza  was  added   to    the 
National  Hymn,  "  America,"  by  its  author. 

Our  joyful  hearts  to-day, 
Their  grateful  tribute  pay,  — 

Happy  and  free. 
After  our  toils  and  fears. 
After  our  blood  and  tears, 
Strong  with  our  hundred  years, 

0  God,  to  Thee. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     185 


MEMORIAL  DAY,   1894. 

NOT  costly  domes  nor  marble  towers 
Shall  mark  where  friendship  comes  to  weep  ; 
Let  clustering  vines  and  fragrant  flowers 
Tell  where  the  nation's  heroes  sleep. 

They  rest  in  many  a  shaded  vale, 

By,  and  beneath,  the  sounding  sea  ; 

The  forest-winds  their  requiem  wail,  — 
The  glorious  sons  of  liberty ! 

Some,  in  the  stalwart  years  of  life  ; 

Some,  in  the  prime  of  manhood's  bloom,  — 
Unshrinking,  joined  the  bitter  strife, 

Unconquered,  found  a  soldier's  tomb. 

They  merit  all  our  hearts  can  give ; 

Our  praises  and  our  love  they  claim  ; 
Long  shall  their  precious  names  survive. 

Held  sacred  by  immortal  fame. 

Blest  be  the  land  for  which  they  fought,  — 
The  land  where  Freedom's  banners  wave  ; 

The  land  by  blood  and  treasure  bought, 

Where  dwell  the  free,  where  sleep  the  brave. 

Great  patriots  of  the  elder  time, 

Dear  patriots  of  our  later  days, 
Inspired  alike  by  faith  sublime, 

One  trump  of  fame  shall  swell  your  praise. 


186  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

The  patriot  sire  to  patriot  son  — 

O'er  the  broad  land,  from  sea  to  sea  — 

Has  left  the  glorious  portion  won, 
The  dear  bequest  of  liberty. 

The  picket  from  his  weary  tread 

Has  passed ;  his  silent  watch  is  o'er ; 

The  myriad  troops,  to  battle  led, 

Shall  march  o'er  fields  of  blood  no  more. 

They  gained  what  their  ambition  craved, 
Freedom  and  love  to  all  to  bring  ; 

And  peace,  o'er  all  the  land  they  saved. 

Broods,  like  the  dove,  with  sheltering  wing. 

Honor  the  memory  of  the  dead, 

Where'er  the  sun  of  Freedom  shines ; 

Wreathe  with  fair  flowers  each  sleeper's  bed. 
Cherished  and  loved,  as  holy  shrines. 


oJ<K<= 


MY   NATIVE  LAND. 

Written  on  returning,  after  more  than  two  years'  absence  in 
foreign  countries. 

WE  wander  far  o'er  land  and  sea ; 
We  seek  the  old  and  new  ; 
We  try  the  lowly  and  the  great, 

The  many  and  the  few. 
O'er  States  at  hand  and  realms  remote. 

With  curious  quest  we  roam, 
But  find  the  fairest  spot  on  earth 
Just  in  our  native  home. 


PATRIOTIC  EXAMPLES  AND  INCENTIVES.     187 

We  hold  communion,  high  and  sweet, 

With  men  iu  ancient  lore  ; 
By  day,  by  night,  with  reverent  eyes. 

O'er  volumes  old  we  pore,  — 
But  Rome,  and  Greece,  and  Orient  lands. 

And  heroes  far  away. 
Great  in  their  times,  still  lack  the  charm 

That  lights  our  own  to-day. 

We  seek  for  landscapes,  fair  and  grand. 

Seen  through  sweet  summer  haze  ; 
Helvetia's  mountains,  piled  with  snow, 

Italia's  sunset  rays. 
And  lake,  and  stream,  and  crag,  and  dell. 

And  new  and  fairer  flowers. 
We  own  them  rich,  and  fair,  —  but  not 

More  grand,  more  fair,  than  ours. 

With  solemn  air  we  tread,  where  trod 

The  feet  of  ancient  men. 
And  fill  old  palaces  and  courts 

With  echoing  sounds  again  ; 
Temple  and  forum,  bath  and  arch, 

Un-earthed,  in  glory  stand,  — 
These  with  admiring  gaze  we  view. 

But  crave  our  native  land. 

We  hear  with  joy  the  golden  speech 

Of  men  of  high  renown  ; 
We  see  with  praise  the  jewelled  wealth 

Of  sceptre,  mace,  and  crown,  — 
But  dearer  far  the  golden  words 

That  made  a  people  free  ; 
And  crown  and  sceptre  pale  before 

A  nation's  liliertv. 


188  POEMS  OF  COUNTRY. 

0  land,  where  saint  and  pilgrim  came, 

With  loftiest  purpose  fraught, 
Nurtured  in  hardship,  toil  and  faith, 

0  land,  divinely  taught ; 
As  streams  the  light  from  headland  tower, 

Guide  o'er  the  stormy  sea. 
So  hope,  to  all  the  oppressed,  beams  forth. 

Dear  native  land,  from  thee. 


Part  III. 
POEMS:   SACRED  AND   RELIGIOUS. 


i^att  III. 

SACRED  AND   RELIGIOUS. 


INCENTIVES    TO    EARLY    PIETY. 


OF   SUCH   IS   THE   KINGDOM  OF   HEAVEN. 

CHILDREN  of  Freedom's  land, 
Who  know  the  Saviour's  word, 
To  strams  of  grateful  harmony, 
Wake  every  joyful  chord ! 

Not  where  the  heathen  cast 

Their  infants  to  the  wave  ; 
Not  where  they  know  not  of  the  name 

Of  Him  who  came  to  save ; 

Not  in  some  distant  isle 

Of  the  unpeopled  sea,  — 
But  amid  temples,  we  were  bom, 

And  where  the  holy  be. 

"  Suffer  the  babes  to  come," 

Of  such,  the  Saviour  said, 
They,  of  "  my  kingdom,"  shall  be  heirs  ; 

For  them,  the  Saviour  bled. 


190  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Hither,  with  sacred  power, 
The  words  of  love  are  sent. 

The  cords  of  blessed  truth  to  bind, 
While  those  of  sin  are  rent. 

Children  of  Freedom's  land. 
Who  know  the  Saviour's  word, 

To  strains  of  grateful  harmony 
Wake  every  joyful  chord  ! 

Waterville,  July  4,  1835. 

MOENING   PRAYER 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

NOW  gloomy  night  is  gone, 
And  smiling  day  comes  on ; 
The  morning-dawn  is  breaking, 
And  we,  from  slumbers  waking, 
Look  up  to  Thee,  our  Saviour, 
And  seek  Thy  daily  favor. 

Grant  us  Thy  watchful  care, 
To  save  from  every  snare ; 
Oh,  make  us  good  and  holy, 
And  teach  us  to  be  lowly, 
And  kind  in  every  feeling, 
And  to  each  other  yielding. 

If  pain  and  want  we  bear, 
Be  Thou,  our  Saviour,  near, 
To  shine  upon  us  brighter. 
And  make  the  sorrows  lighter. 
That  are  to  mortals  given, 
To  make  them  fit  for  heaven. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  191 

Lord,  give  our  daily  food, 
And  make  us  mild  and  good  ; 

And  when  the  clouds  of  evening. 

Their  glowing  forms  are  weavmg. 

We  '11  look  to  Thee,  our  Saviour, 

And  praise  Thee  for  Thy  favor. 


o>»io 


THINGS   SMALL  AND  GEEAT. 

WHO  shall  not  love  the  weak  and  young  ? 
The  oak-tree,  wide  and  tall, 
A  shade  on  land,  a  ship  at  sea. 
Was  once  an  acorn  small. 

Who  shall  not  love  the  bloom  of  youth  ? 

The  buds  of  blushing  spring 
In  summer  beauty  will  expand, 

And  richest  harvests  brmg. 

Who  shall  not  love  the  cloud  that  floats, 

Slight  as  the  human  hand, 
But  in  its  fertile  bosom  bears, 

Blessings  for  all  the  land  ? 

Who  shall  not  love  the  opening  world  ? 

The  morning's  first  faint  ray 
Shines,  a  sweet  harbinger  of  joy, 

Earnest  of  perfect  day. 

Who  would  not  teach  the  infant  tongue 

To  lisp  the  Saviour's  name  ? 
The  Saviour  ransomed  such  as  these, 

For  such  as  these  He  came. 


192  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Who  would  not  deem  the  smallest  gem 

Worthy  his  utmost  care, 
To  fit  it  for  the  radiant  crown 

The  Saviour's  brow  shall  wear  ? 

September  7,  1893. 


0><«C 


THE   DEWDEOP  AND   THE  SOUL.i 

A  BRIGHT  drop  on  the  rose-leaf  rests, 
A  little  quivering  one  ; 
Yet  in  its  tiny  globe  it  holds 
The  mighty,  shining  sun. 

The  soul,  a  gem,  of  birth  divine, 

Sparkles  on  life's  fair  tree ; 
But  in  its  little  compass,  God, 

The  Almighty,  deigns  to  be. 

Each  mirrors  in  its  sunny  depths 

A  light  that  ever  shines  : 
Cradled  in  thorns,  beaming  with  joy, 

Such  are  life's  varied  lines ! 

What  is  the  drop  ?  Mere  dew  —  a  tear  ; 

Exhaled,  —  't  is  quickly  gone  ! 
Fraught  with  immortal  life,  the  soul. 

Like  God  himself,  lives  on. 

How  blest  the  life  whose  steady  light 

To  this  dark  world  is  given  ! 
Winds  breathe  and  pass ;  such  life  will  last, 

A  life  for  God  and  heaven. 

1  Translated  from  the  Swedish. 


INCENTIVES   TO  EARLY  PIETY.  193 


EELIGION. 

THE  joys  of  earth  are  fleeting, 
And,  quick,  their  charms  retreating, 
Give  place  to  grief  and  woe  ! 
There  is  no  scene  of  gladness. 
That  is  not  dashed  by  sadness  ; 
There  is  no  perfect  bliss  below. 

But  there  are  fadeless  pleasures, 
And  ever-during  treasures, 

Joys  which  no  tongue  can  tell, 
Sweet  streams  of  consolation. 
And  rivers  of  salvation,  — 

From  pure  religion's  fountain  well ! 

When  sorrows  gather  o'er  us. 
And  troubles  crowd  before  us, 

Eeligion  gives  us  light ; 
The  chains  are  loosed  that  bound  us, 
The  skies  grow  clear  around  us, 

And  all  is  peaceful,  fair,  and  bright. 

When  mortal  life  is  fading. 

Thro'  Death's  dark  Jordan  wading. 

There  is  no  painful  gloom : 
Religion  cheers  the  holy. 
And  points  the  meek  and  lowly 

To  joys  that  live  beyond  the  tomb. 


13 


194  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


EEMEMBEE  THY  CREATOR. 

ECCLESIASTES  XII. 

REMEMBER  thy  Creator 
Wliile  youth's  fair  spring  is  bright,  ■ 
Before  thy  cares  are  greater, 
Before  comes  age's  night. 
Wliile  yet  the  sun  shines  o'er  thee, 
While  stars  the  darkness  cheer, 
While  life  is  all  before  thee, 
Thy  great  Creator  fear. 

Remember  thy  Creator 

Before  the  dust  returns 
To  earth,  —  for  't  is  its  nature,  — 

And  life's  last  ember  burns  ! 
Before  with  God  who  gave  it 

Thy  spirit  shall  appear. 
He  cries,  who  died  to  save  it, 

"  Thy  great  Creator  fear." 


O>«<0 


THANKSGIVING. 

WHILE  all  creation  sings  for  joy, 
Let  thoughts  of  praise  our  hearts  employ 
Amid  the  harmony  around, 
Let  not  our  tongues  be  silent  found,  — 
Our  music  still ! 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  195 

Ten  thousand  songs  of  praise  we  owe, 
To  Him  whose  glories  round  us  flow, 
To  Hiui  who  bids  our  sorrows  cease, 
And  fills  our  souls  with  sacred  peace,  — 
So  great  His  love  ! 

He  guides  our  steps  to  living  streams ; 
He  leads  our  thoughts  to  holy  themes ; 
Our  wandering  feet  His  love  redeems, 
By  day  He  cheers  us  with  His  light, 
And  gives  us  sweet  repose  at  night,  — 
So  rich  His  grace  ! 

Let  all  who  dwell  below  the  sky 
Join  in  the  angels'  minstrelsy. 
Till  earth  no  more  is  dark  with  sin, 
And  heavenly  joys  their  course  begin, 
No  more  to  cease  ! 


MARTHA  AND    MARY. 

CUMBERED  with  earthly  care, 
Her  lot,  to  do  and  bear. 
To  watch  and  wait, 
Martha,  with  tender  thought. 
Her  loving  service  Ijrought ; 
It  was  for  Christ  she  wrought 
Early  and  late. 

Mary  (a  place  most  sweet !), 
Low  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 
Hung  on  His  word ; 


196  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Hers,  but  in  love  sincere, 

Waiting  His  voice  to  hear, 

With  meek  and  holy  fear, 

Beside  her  Lord. 

Be  ours  the  bliss  to  sit, 
Waiting  at  Jesus'  feet, — 

The  twain  in  one,  — 
Whether  we  hear  or  do. 
With  patient  hearts  and  true. 
To  toil,  and  listen,  too, 

To  Him  alone. 


PEEFECT   IN   CHRIST. 


P 


ERFECT  in  Christ,  our  spirits  yearn  to  be ; 
Perfect  in  manhood,  —  perfect.  Lord,  m  Thee ; 
Strong  in  Thy  strength,  to  love,  to  do,  to  bear ; 
Strong  through  Thy  mighty  arm,  Thy  ceaseless  care. 


Perfect  in  Christ,  —  no  pain,  no  grief,  nor  loss. 
Nor  wearing  toil,  nor  weight  of  wearying  cross 
Shall  check  the  fond  desire  that  bliss  to  feel,  — 
To  bear  the  impress  of  the  Spirit's  seal. 

As  some  glad  morning  bird,  on  joyous  wings. 
Leaps  from  her  nest,  and,  soaring  heavenward,  sings, 
So  would  our  souls,  from  sin's  dark  thraldom  free, 
Bound  upward,  Lord,  to  find  their  rest  in  Thee. 

Perfect  in  Christ,  these  natures,  weak  and  frail. 
O'er  sin  and  weakness  shall  at  last  prevail ; 
In  Him  complete,  before  Him  reverent  fall,  — 
Our  Priest,  our  King,  our  Saviour,  and  our  All. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  197 


FLEETING  BLESSINGS. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

THERE  stood  upon  a  river's  bank 
A  tall  and  branching  tree, 
Beneath  whose  shade  a  shepherd  lived, 

From  care  and  tumult  free. 
The  rustling  breeze,  so  mild  and  cool, 

"Watched  o'er  his  nightly  rest ; 
And  all  day  long  the  rippling  stream 
In  flashing  light  was  drest. 

But,  ah !  a  torrent  from  the  hills 

Rushed  fiercely  to  the  shore. 
Tore  from  its  root  the  stalwart  tree, 

And  down  the  current  bore  ; 
The  flood  passed  by,  and  all  was  still. 

The  broad,  bright  stream  flowed  on  ; 
But  when  the  shepherd  sought  the  place. 

The  sheltering  tree  was  gone. 

So  sickness  sweeps  along  the  land ; 

So  death  is  drawing  nigh  ; 
And  we,  with  all  our  life  and  joy, 

May  droop  and  faint  and  die ! 
"When  God  shall  call  our  spirits  home. 

We  may  no  longer  stay  ; 
Dear  Saviour,  make  us  meet  to  dwell 

With  Thee  in  endless  day  ! 


198  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


EAELY  CONSECRATION. 

TO  Him  who  dwells  above,  all  grace  possessing ; 
To  Him,  who  sheds  upon  us  every  blessing,  — 
Ourselves,  our  all,  we  consecrate  to-day ; 
Our  souls  we  yield  to  His  delightful  sway. 

No  earthly  joy  shall  part,  no  sorrow  sever. 
Our  hearts  from  Thee,  our  God,  our  King,  forever ; 
Our  steadfast  spirits  shall  in  Thee  confide. 
And  ever  near  Thy  sacred  throne  abide. 

Where'er  we  go,  Thy  fear  shall  be  before  us ; 
Where'er  we  stay,  no  sin  shall  triumph  o'er  us. 
In  every  hour,  to  Thee,  our  souls  shall  fly; 
To  Thee,  we  yield  our  spirits,  till  we  die. 

The  vows,  blest  Saviour,  which  our  lips  have  spoken, 
Shall  never  by  deceitful  hearts  be  broken ; 
Still  let  Thy  grace  upon  our  efforts  shine. 
And  we  will  evermore  be  only  Thine  ! 


OUR  BELOVED   TEACHERS. 

AS  fades  the  light  of  closing  day. 
As  earth's  fair  flowers  shut  at  even, 
So  pass  they  from  our  paths  away 
Who  led  our  infant  feet  to  heaven. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  199 

The  seed  of  living  truth  they  sowed 

Shall  in  a  genial  harvest  rise, 
And  children  gathered  home  to  God 

Be  their  bright  honor  in  the  skies. 

Oh,  happy  they  whose  weekly  toil 

Prepares  fresh  gems  in  heaven  to  shine ; 

Such  wealth  no  worldly  ill  can  spoil, 
Nor  make  its  priceless  worth  decline. 

Oh,  happy  they  who,  early  taught 
To  give  their  hearts,  0  Lord,  to  Thee, 

Bind  budding  life  and  opening  thought 
To  life's  great  end,  —  eternity. 

Wlien  earth  and  years  and  life  are  passed, 
And  Heaven  shall  yield  its  long  reward. 

Gather  our  little  flock  at  last 
To  be  forever  with  the  Lord. 


o)«<c 


THE   WORD   OF   GOD. 

BLEST  word  of  God,  our  help,  our  stay ! 
Our  star  by  night,  our  sun  by  day ! 
Our  compass  o'er  life's  pathless  sea  ! 
Our  guide,  0  God,  to  heaven  and  Thee  ! 

Blest  source  of  truth,  thy  voice  we  hear ; 
Thy  precepts  love,  thy  law  revere  ! 
God's  hand  on  every  leaf  we  trace ; 
In  every  page  we  see  His  face  ! 


200  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

How  free  the  pardon  it  reveals  ! 
How  rich  the  covenant  love  it  seals ! 
How  safe  on  its  Amen  to  rest,  — 
The  Word  of  God,  forever  blest ! 

Far  as  the  homes  of  man  are  known, 
Eeign  Thou,  Jehovah,  God  alone ! 
Send  forth  Thy  Spirit  with  Thy  word, 
Till  all  earth's  millions  own  Thee,  Lord ! 


oj*;« 


THE   CLOSING   WEEK. 

HOW  sweet  the  evening  shadows  fall, 
Advancing  from  the  west, 
As  ends  the  weary  week  of  toil. 
And  comes  the  day  of  rest ! 

Bright  o'er  the  earth  the  star  of  eve 

Her  radiant  beauty  sheds  ; 
And  myriad  sisters  calmly  weave 

Their  halo  round  our  heads. 

Rest,  man,  from  labor ;  rest  from  sin  ! 

The  world's  hard  contest  close  ; 
The  holy  hours  with  God  begin ; 

Yield  thee  to  sweet  repose. 

Bright  o'er  the  earth  the  morning  ray 

Its  sacred  light  will  cast,  — 
Fair  emblem  of  the  glorious  day 

That  evermore  shall  last. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  201 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

DAILY  the  hum  of  eve  returns  ; 
The  twilight  onward  speeds, — 
As  night  to  day,  and  day  to  night, 
In  changeless  round  succeeds. 

But  busier  is  the  evening  hum 

That  swells  upon  the  air  ; 
And  quicker  footsteps  seem  to  tell 

Of  more  than  common  care. 

It  is  the  night-fall  of  the  week  ; 

It  brings  the  joyful  close 
To  earthly  scenes  awhile,  and  bids 

The  spirit  take  repose. 

No  work  shall  break  the  Sabbath  rest ; 

No  care  with  harsh  control 
Shall  bind,  in  mortal  grasp,  the  strength 

Of  the  immortal  soul. 

The  day  shall  be  a  day  of  love. 

With  holy  converse  blest, 
And  urge  the  lingering  spirit  on. 

To  seek  the  heavenly  rest. 

Then  let  the  evening  hum  be  loud ; 

'T  is  but  the  note  that  tells 
Of  preparation  for  the  peace 

That  in  the  Sabbath  dwells ! 


202  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


SABBATH  MOENING. 

HOW  blest  the  Sabbath  mornmg  breaks 
O'er  island,  continent,  and  deep ! 
How  sweet  the  thrill  of  holy  peace, 
Whose  pulses  through  the  spirit  creep ! 

All  Nature  wears  a  fairer  hue ; 

The  balmy  wind  more  fragrant  blows ; 
While  the  blue  canopy  above 

Eeflects  and  shares  the  glad  repose. 

The  summer  clouds  that  skirt  the  west, 
Heaped  on  the  far  horizon's  rim. 

Seem  like  an  angel  choir  at  rest. 

Intent  to  join  earth's  grateful  hymn. 

And  thousands  crowd  from  thousand  homes, 
In  every  land  where  man  has  trod ; 

The  babe  to  lisp,  and  age  to  learn, 

The  wondrous  works  and  ways  of  God. 

Gather  them  in  with  loving  zeal. 

From  South  to  North,  from  East  to  West,  - 
To  Him  whose  loving  arms  embrace, 

Whose  loving  voice  proclaims  them  blest. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  203 


THE  LOKD'S  DAY. 

PLEASANT  is  the  day  of  rest, 
Of  the  happy  week  the  best ; 
Care  and  sorrow  leave  the  breast 
Ou  the  Sabbath  day. 

Brightest  beams  the  sun  afar, 
Sweetest  is  the  evening  star, 
Fairest  Nature's  glories  are, 
On  the  Sabbath  day  ! 

With  the  good  I  love  to  go 
Where  Salvation's  tidings  flow. 
Breathing  heaven  while  here  below, 
On  the  Sabbath  day  ! 

Precious  is  the  Sabbath-school, 
Kind  and  gentle  every  rule, 
Every  scene  of  mercy  full. 
On  the  Sabbath  day ! 

Saviour,  may  I  learn  of  Thee, 
Meek  and  mild  and  good  to  be, 
While  Thy  teachings  come  to  me 
Every  Sabbath  day ! 

Guide  me  to  the  world  above, 
By  Thy  Spirit  and  Thy  love ; 
May  I  all  the  joys  improve. 
Of  the  Sabbath  day  ! 

Holier  scenes  await  the  just. 
When  they  leave  this  mortal  dust ; 
Teach  me.  Lord,  in  Thee  to  trust. 
On  the  Sabbath  day  ! 


204  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


ANNIVEESAEY  HYMN.i 

[Tone  :  Italian  Hymn.} 

BLEST  be  the  day  of  rest, 
Of  all  the  week  the  best,  — 
Queen  of  the  seven  ! 
Day  given  to  praise  and  pray, 
Soothing  life's  weary  way, 
Turning  our  night  to  day, 
Emblem  of  heaven  ! 


We  love  the  house  of  prayer. 
Breathings  of  heaven  are  there ; 

Its  hymns  of  praise 
And  messages  of  love 
Attract  our  hearts  above. 
Bidding  us  come  and  prove 

Jesus'  rich  grace. 


Blest  be  our  gracious  Lord  ! 
Blest  be  His  loving  word,  — 

"Let  children  come 
To  me,"  —  their  Guide  and  Friend ! 
He  will  our  steps  defend, 
And,  when  life's  toils  shall  end. 
Welcome  us  home. 


1  Sung  at  the  Clarendon  Street  Baptist  Church,  Boston,  October 
14.  1889. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  205 

The  hour  that  calls  us  here, 
Marks  one  more  happy  year, 

In  mercy  given  ; 
When  fades  life's  twilight  ray. 
Be  ours  the  perfect  day,  — 
Life,  that  feels  no  decay, 

Sabbath  in  heaven  ! 


A  SABBATH-SCHOOL  HYMN. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 


A^ 


LL  the  week  we  spend 

Full  of  childish  bliss  ; 

Every  changing  scene 

Brings  its  happiness ; 

Yet  our  joys  would  not  be  full, 

Had  we  not  the  Sabbath-school. 

Lovely  is  the  dawn 

Of  each  rising  day  ; 

Loveliest,  the  morn 

Of  the  Sabbath  day  ! 
Then  our  infant  thoughts  are  full 
Of  the  precious  Sabbath-school. 

To  our  happy  ears. 

Blessed  News  are  brought,  — 

Tidings  of  the  work 

Love  di\'ine  has  wrought. 
Gracious  news  and  merciful,  — 
How  we  love  the  Sabbath-school ! 


206  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Teachers,  you  are  kind, 

Thus  to  point  the  road 

Leading  us  from  sin 

To  our  Father,  God. 
May  we  all  be  dutiful, 
In  the  precious  Sabbath-school ! 

Sweetly  fades  the  light 
Of  each  passing  day  ; 
Fairest  is  the  night 
Of  the  Sabbath  day ; 
Then  our  hearts  with  praise  are  full, 
For  the  precious  Sabbath-school. 


SABBATH  EVENING. 

SOFTLY  fades  the  twilight  ray 
Of  the  holy  Sabbath  day, 
Gently  as  life's  setting  sun, 
When  the  Christian's  course  is  run. 

Night  her  solemn  mantle  spreads 
O'er  the  earth,  as  daylight  fades ; 
Nature  rests  in  sweet  repose, 
At  the  holy  Sabbath's  close. 

Peace  is  on  the  world  abroad ; 
'T  is  the  holy  peace  of  God,  — 
Symbol  of  the  peace  within. 
When  the  spirit  rests  from  sin. 


INCENTIVES   TO  EARLY  PIETY.  207 

Still  tlie  Spirit  lingers  near, 
Where  the  evening  worshipper 
Seeks  communion  with  the  skies, 
Pressing  onward  to  the  prize. 

Saviour,  may  our  Sabbaths  be 
Days  of  peace  and  joy  in  Thee, 
Till  in  heaven  our  souls  repose, 
Where  the  Sabbath  ne'er  shall  close. 


GOD   BE   OUR   STAFF  AND   FEIEND.^ 

[Tune  :  "  Bethany."] 

FAR  from  the  dear  delights 
Of  friends  and  home, 
Summoned  by  life's  high  call, 

Pilgrims,  we  roam ; 
Waifs  on  the  world's  highway. 
Cheerful  in  hope,  we  stay ; 
God  make  our  darkness,  day. 
Our  winter,  bloom. 

Of  scenes  and  seasons  past, 

Fond  memory  tells. 
Sweet  as  the  lulling  sounds 

Of  vesper  bells ; 
But  more  than  pleasures  gone. 
Are  deeds  of  duty  done, 
And  life's  grand  conquest  won,  — 

Draughts  from  deep  wells. 

'  Written  for  a  Toang  Men's  Associntion  of  Boston,  to  be  .snng  at  a 
Thanksgiving  Dinner ;  also  used  at  a  Christmas  Dinner,  at  San  Fran- 
cisco, 1884,  by  two  hundred  young  men,  away  from  home. 


208  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

They  gather,  far  away, 

The  loved,  the  fair, 
To  keep  this  festal  day 

With  praise  and  prayer. 
We  know  they  love  us  still ; 
God  save  them  all  from  ill, 
Their  ardent  prayers  fulfil,  — 

The  loved  ones,  there. 

We  trust  His  generous  arm 
Through  all  life's  fever  ; 
God  be  our  Staff  and  Friend, 

Strong  to  deliver ; 
Then,  'neath  heaven's  gorgeous  dome. 
No  more  like  drifting  foam, 
The  households,  all  at  home. 
Shall  feast  forever. 


oXKc 


THE   YOUNG   FOE   CHEIST. 

Wkitten  for  the  Societies  of  Christian  Endeavor  and  other  Young 
Peoples'  Societies'  Convention  held  in  Chicago,  111.,  July,  1891. 

DRAWN  from  a  thousand  distant  homes. 
In  Christ's  dear  love  we  meet ; 
The  hosts  who  labor  in  His  cause, 
In  Christ's  dear  name  we  greet. 

We  hold  one  Lord,  one  central  light ; 

Our  hopes,  our  aims  are  one,  — 
As  planets,  in  their  devious  flight. 

Revolve  around  one  sun. 


INCENTIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY.  209 

Humbly,  iii  loyal  faith,  we  bow 

At  oue  Kedeemer's  feet; 
Our  prayers,  like  clouds  of  iiicense,  rise 

Before  one  mercy-seat. 

If  blossoms  of  the  early  spring 

Are  doubly  sweet  and  fair ; 
Our  budding  youth  to  God  we  bring, 

And  leave  the  offering  there. 

One  kingdom  to  our  conquering  Prince, 

From  sea  to  sea,  be  given ; 
His  will  be  done  o'er  the  wide  earth. 

Just  as  't  is  done  in  heaven  ! 


ONWARD!   CHRISTIAN   WARRIORS.^ 

[Tune  :  "  Webb."] 

ONWARD  !  O  Christian  warriors, 
Where'er  the  trumpet  calls  ; 
Onward !  the  Leader  summons. 
Beyond  the  sheltering  walls  ; 
Onward  !  the  work  awaits  you, 

Fear  not  the  world's  cold  frown  ; 
Arm  for  the  glorious  conflict, 
Then  wear  the  victor's  crown. 

Onward  !  with  loving  purpose, 
Wliere  crime  and  sorrow  reign  ; 

Onward  !  like  men  in  earnest ; 
Onward  !  with  heart  and  brain  ; 

1  For  the   Young  People's   rally,  Dudley  Street,  Boston,  Novem- 
ber 26, 1894. 

14 


210  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Onward !  to  save  the  erring, 
To  break  the  bonds  of  sin  ; 

Onward !  the  lost  to  rescue ; 
Gems  for  Christ's  crown  to  win. 

Onward  !  the  battle  thickens  ; 

The  Captain's  signal  see  ; 
Onward  !  to  deeds  of  glory  ; 

Onward  !  to  victory  ; 
Onward !  with  God  assisting, 

Like  soldiers  true  and  brave, 
Till  o'er  each  conquered  fortress 

Salvation's  banners  wave. 


THE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  211 


THE    GOSPEL    MINISTRY. 


HARVEST-TIME. 

FAR  o'er  the  land  the  precious  grain 
Waves  'neath  the  sunny  sky, 
And  ripening  harvests  offer  sheaves 
For  immortality. 

But  who  will  reap  the  golden  fruit, 

And  who  at  last  will  stand, 
A  faithful  servant,  crowned  with  joy, 

0  Lord,  at  Thy  right  hand? 

Be  ours  the  work,  be  ours  the  joy, 

To  us  the  charge  be  given. 
To  gather  souls  to  Christ,  and  find 

Our  garnered  sheaves  in  heaven. 

Strength  to  the  reapers,  mighty  God,  — 
Strength  to  the  reapers  send, 

To  bear  the  burden  of  the  day, 
And  labor  till  the  end. 

There  songs  of  triumph  shall  arise ; 

Then  shall  Thy  kingdom  come. 
And  echoing  anthems  greet  at  last 

The  heavenly  harvest  home. 


212  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


SOWING  AND   REAPING. 

AS  whitening  fields  of  precious  grain 
On  sunny  hills  expand, 
The  world's  wide  harvest,  fully  ripe. 
Waits  for  the  reaper's  hand. 

But  who  shall  reap  the  joyful  crop  ? 

And  who  with  gladness  sing, 
When  he  that  sowed  with  tears  and  hope 

His  sheaves  shall  homeward  bring  ? 

Each  lowly  toiler  o'er  earth's  waste, 
Through  paths  of  sadness  led, 

Shall  bring  some  crown  at  last  to  rest 
On  our  Immanuel's  head. 

Then  be  our  path  through  sun  or  shade, 

Be  dark  or  bright  our  way. 
We  toil  in  hope  and  love,  till  dawns 

Heaven's  pure  and  perfect  day. 

Then  he  that  sowed  on  distant  hills, 

In  humble  faith  and  prayer, 
And  he  that  reaped  in  fields  at  home. 

Shall  sing  together  there. 

Sower  and  reaper,  from  their  Lord, 
Shall  hear  the  joyful  "  Come  !  " 

Sower  and  reaper  meet  and  sing 
Heaven's  glorious  "  Harvest-home." 


THE  GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  213 


WELCOME  TO  A  PASTOR. 

COME  to  our  waiting  hearts  and  homes, 
0  teacher,  sent  from  Heaven  ; 
To  thee,  to  guide  our  souls  to  God, 
The  highest  behest  is  given. 

Come  with  the  prophet's  stern  rebuke, 
The  warning  trump  to  sound  ; 

Come,  point  us  to  the  Rock,  wherein 
Alone  is  safety  found. 

Come  with  the  words  of  heavenly  grace. 

To  cheer  the  fainting  soul ; 
Come  with  the  Spirit's  saving  power. 

To  make  the  wounded  whole. 

Come  with  the  Shepherd's  loving  heart. 

The  tender  flock  to  guide. 
To  feed  in  pastures  green,  and  lead 

Where  living  waters  glide. 

Come,  for  the  waving  field  is  ripe. 

The  sickle  waits  thy  hand, 
And  bending  harvests,  far  and  near. 

Around  the  reaper  stand. 

And  when  the  workman,  worn  with  toil, 

His  finished  labor  leaves, 
He,  with  rejoicing  heart,  shall  bring 

Homeward  his  glorious  sheaves. 


214  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


A  BLESSING  SOUGHT  UPON  A  PASTOR. 

AND  now  the  solemn  deed  is  done  ; 
The  vow  is  pledged,  the  toil  begun,  — 
Seal  Thou,  0  God,  the  oath  above, 
And  ratify  the  pledge  of  love. 

The  shepherd  of  Thy  people  bless  ; 
Gird  him  with  Thy  own  holiness  ; 
In  duty  may  his  pleasure  be, 
His  glory  in  his  zeal  for  Thee. 

Here  let  the  ardent  prayer  arise. 
Faith  fix  its  grasp  beyond  the  skies, 
The  tear  of  penitence  be  shed, 
And  myriads  to  the  Saviour  led. 

Come,  Spirit,  here  consent  to  dwell ; 
The  mists  of  earth  and  sin  dispel ; 
Blest  Saviour,  Thy  own  rights  maintain. 
Supreme  in  every  bosom  reign. 

Oh,  let  our  humble  worship  be 
A  grateful  tribute,  Lord,  to  Thee  ; 
And  may  these  hallowed  scenes  of  love 
Fit  us  for  purer  joys  above. 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  215 


THE   DIVINE    PEESENCE  INVOKED. 

OTHOU  whose  glory  fills  the  sky, 
Exalted  be  Thy  praise ! 
Let  all  below,  let  all  on  high, 
To  Thee  hosanuas  raise. 

Light  of  the  world,  and  Joy  of  all 
The  saints  around  the  throne, 

While  they,  in  holy  reverence,  fall, 
And  worship  Thee  alone,  — 

Accepted  at  the  throne  of  grace, 
Oh,  may  our  praise  ascend ; 

And  unto  us  reveal  Thy  face, 
While  at  Thy  feet  we  bend. 

Contrite  and  humble  hearts,  0  God, 
We  fain  would  bring  to  Thee, 

And,  like  the  saints  in  Thine  abode. 
Serve  Thee  in  purity. 

Spirit  of  God  !  with  gracious  power 

In  Ziou's  courts  appear, 
And  make  it  known,  this  sacred  hour, 

That  Zion's  God  is  here. 


216  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


BENEFITS   OF   THE   MINISTRY. 

BLEST  is  the  hour  when  cares  depart, 
And  earthly  scenes  are  far,  — 
When  tears  of  woe  forget  to  start. 
And  gently  dawns  upon  the  heart 
Devotion's  holy  star. 

Blest  is  the  place  where  angels  bend 

To  hear  our  worship  rise, 
Where  kindred  thoughts  their  musings  blend. 
And  all  the  soul's  affections  tend 

Beyond  the  veiling  skies. 

Blest  are  the  hallowed  vows  that  bind 

Man  to  his  work  of  love,  — 
Bind  him  to  cheer  the  humble  mind. 
Console  the  weeping,  lead  the  blind. 

And  guide  to  joys  above. 

Sweet  shall  the  song  of  glory  swell, 

Spirit  divine,  to  Thee, 
When  they  whose  work  is  finished  well, 
In  Thy  own  courts  of  rest  shall  dwell, 

Blest  through  eternity. 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  217 


GREAT   IS   THE   WORK,   BUT   THINE   THE 
POWER. 

ORDINATION  HYMN. 

GREAT  is  the  work,  but  Thine,  O  God,  the  power, 
Our  Strength  in  weakness,  and  in  fear,  our  Tower; 
Seal  with  Thy  Spirit  what  our  hands  have  done, 
And  crown  with  joyful  fruits  the  work  begun. 

Sustain  Thy  servant  in  his  varied  toil ; 
Enrich  the  sower,  bless  the  fruitful  soil. 
To  prayer  and  faith,  let  souls  redeemed  be  given ; 
Graces  made  perfect,  spirits  trained  for  heaven. 

The  work,  the  gifts,  the  heart  to  do  and  bear, 
To  us  intrusted,  crave,  0  God,  Thy  care  ; 
Cheerful,  we  wait  Thy  will,  our  field  assign  ; 
Grant  us  Thy  help,  and  be  the  glory  Thine. 


oj^o 


THE   CHOSEN   OF  GOD. 

OH,  blest  are  they  to  whom  't  is  given 
To  shine  as  radiant  stars  above,  — 
The  sons  of  light,  the  heirs  of  heaven. 
The  tenants  of  a  world  of  love. 

No  grief  shall  draw  the  swelling  tear 
Of  anguish  from  the  pilgrim's  eye ; 

No  wearying  toil,  no  anxious  fear,  — 
The  conqueror  never  more  shall  die. 


218  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

No  fierce  disease,  no  chilling  blast, 
Shall  e'er  that  better  land  invade ; 

Faith's  vision  there  shall  change  to  sight. 
And  glory  o'er  the  scene  be  shed. 

And  there  the  peace  that  Jesus  gives, 
In  every  ransomed  soul  shall  reign  ; 

There  parted  friends  shall  meet  in  joy, 
There  mothers  clasp  their  babes  again. 

O  glorious  world,  in  vain  we  strive 
To  catch  a  glimpse  of  joys  so  high ; 

Nor  thought  can  reach,  nor  words  describe 
The  scenes  that  glow  beyond  the  sky  ! 

With  ardent  zeal  our  souls  are  fired 
To  pass  beyond  affliction's  rod, 

The  crown  of  endless  life  to  win. 
And  reach  the  paradise  of  God. 


o;<Ko 


THE   SICKLE  AND   THE   SHEAF. 

'  '"T^  IS  mine  to  wield  the  sickle, 

X       Thine,  Lord,  to  give  the  sheaf  ; 
Through  Thee  the  buds  of  spring-time 

Burst  into  life  and  leaf. 
Mine  is  the  toil  of  seed-time, 

And  Thine  the  sun  and  rain  ; 
Mine  is  the  sweat  and  patience, 

And  Thine  the  ripened  grain. 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  219 

Though  wan  and  weary  reapers 

Amid  their  labors  fall, 
And  workmen,  few  and  scattered. 

In  vain  for  helpers  call ; 
Though  noontide  heat  burns  fiercely, 

Or  threatening  tempest  lowers,  — 
The  gathering  and  the  gleaning 

Is  by  mightier  strength  than  ours. 

We  can  wait  with  calm  endurance, 

Though  the  drought  curls  up  the  leaf ; 
We  can  trust  Jehovah-jireh 

To  fill  the  swelling  sheaf. 
'T  is  ours  the  sturdy  muscle. 

The  vigorous  arm  to  bring ; 
'T  is  Thine  with  lieavenly  blessing 

To  make  the  valleys  sing. 

We  shall  reach  the  outmost  furrows, 

In  their  drooping  tassels  dressed  ; 
Beyond  the  field  of  labor. 

We  shall  find  a  place  of  rest. 
We  shall  meet  again  the  reapers 

Who  share  our  grief  and  joy ; 
In  the  harvest-song  of  glory. 

We  shall  find  one  blest  employ. 

The  eagle  from  her  eyrie 

Flies  forth  at  dawn  of  day, 
Poised  on  her  fearless  pinions, 

With  God  to  guide  her  way. 
Soars  upward,  as  the  morning 

Glows  with  God's  glory  bright, 
On,  till  her  form,  receding, 

Loses  itself  in  light. 


220  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

So,  when  the  work  is  ended,  — 

The  garnered  crop  secure,  — 
And  God  shall  bid  His  reapers 

Toil  in  the  heat  no  more  ; 
We  from  all  care  and  sorrow 

Shall  find  divine  relief, 
And  lay  before  our  Master 

The  sickle  and  the  sheaf. 


CHEIST,  THE   COENER-STONE. 

WE  build  on  Christ,  our  Corner-stone, 
That  Rock  of  Ages  we  adore  ; 
Glory  shall  crown  His  name  alone, 
Rock  of  our  faith,  eternal,  sure ! 

Each  stone  we  lay  shall  speak  His  praise ; 

And  spire  and  pinnacle  shall  rise 
In  solemn  grandeur,  holy  grace,  — 

A  grateful  tribute  to  the  skies. 

In  faith,  this  corner-stone  we  lay ; 

In  hope,  the  house  of  God  we  rear. 
Here  God  will  answer  when  we  pray ; 

Jehovah  shall  be  worshipped  here. 

And  when  in  silent  dust  we  sleep. 
This  sacred  stone  shall  still  record 

That  we  and  ours  the  covenant  keep. 
That  we  and  ours  confess  the  Lord. 

Newton  Centre,  August  27,  1887. 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  221 


THE   REAPERS. 

FAR  o'er  the  distant  mountain  ridge 
Climbs  up  the  morning  ray, 
Whose  growing  light  and  warmth  foretell 

The  reign  of  perfect  day  ; 
O'er  the  wide  fields  the  springing  grain 

Shoots  up  its  verdant  threads, 
Prophetic  of  the  waving  crop, 
And  the  wheat's  ripened  heads. 

Joy  for  the  reapers,  when  they  lay 

Their  gleaming  sickles  by  ; 
And  countless  heaps  of  precious  sheaves 

In  yellow  bundles  lie. 
From  field  and  home,  from  plain  and  hill, 

Hasting  in  joyous  throngs, 
They  make  the  bright  and  fragrant  air 

Echo  with  grateful  songs. 

So  shall  the  seed  of  truth  and  grace, 

Scattered  by  loving  hands, 
Harvests  of  untold  wealth  produce 

In  all  the  earth's  broad  lands. 
The  germ,  once  dropped  in  fertile  soil, 

A  wondrous  yield  shall  see. 
Divinely  sown,  divinely  fraught 

With  immortality. 


222  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


THE  AGED   PASTOR 

TO  REV.  C.  A.  THOMAS,  D.D.,  BRANDON,  VT. 

HAIL,  pastor !  with  thy  honored  brow 
And  age's  silver  head ; 
What  memories  of  the  loved  and  lost, 

The  living  and  the  dead, 
Crowd  on  the  thoughts,  as  time  recalls 

The  scenes  of  earlier  years, 
Weaving,  like  flowers  with  autumn  leaves, 
Garlands  of  joy  and  tears  ! 


How  forty  years  of  life  have  made 

Familiar  faces  strange  ! 
While  history  with  her  pen  records 

How  men  and  landscapes  change ; 
And  near  twice  forty  years,  thy  steps, 

The  wreath  of  cloud  and  flame 
Has  led,  alternate,  proving  still 

Thy  covenant,  God,  the  same. 


Hail,  pastor !  though  the  years  have  sped, 

Faithful  and  trusted  still ; 
Trusted,  on  life's  ascending  slope. 

Faithful,  as  slants  the  hill 
Declining  westward,  where  the  sun 

Turns  toward  the  light  of  even, 
And  rests  among  the  pillared  clouds, 

The  gateways  into  heaven. 


THE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  223 

We  bring  no  formal  incense  here ; 

We  speak  no  empty  praise  ; 
We  hang  not  on  the  grand  old  oak, 

A  wreath  of  heartless  bays,  — 
While  thankful  memory  wanders  back 

Through  all  the  growing  years, 
And  eyes  the  busy  world  has  dazed, 

Are  dimmed  with  grateful  tears. 

The  wide  career  our  feet  have  trod  ; 

The  tasks  of  duty  done ; 
The  conquered  fields,  the  harvests  gained  ; 

The  laurels  sought  and  won,  — 
Are  but  his  life,  whose  lips  have  taught 

Lessons  of  love  and  truth, 
Embodied  in  our  riper  days. 

Taught  in  our  tender  youth. 

And  he  whose  lips  and  life  alike 

Inspired  us  to  be  men, 
Enshrined  in  Time's  slow-gathering  years, 

Shall  live  and  move  agam, 
As  sculptured  bust  or  pamted  form. 

The  boast  of  ancient  days, 
Transmitted  through  all  ages,  still 

Lives  for  a  joy  and  praise. 


224  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


STEWARDSHIP. 

Song  at  the  opening  of   the  Seaman's  Bazaar  at  Faneuil  Hall, 
Boston,   December  22,   1865. 

IN  marts  of  wealth,  in  gilded  halls, 
At  power's  exalted  shrine, 
With  solemn  voice,  Jehovah  calls, 
"  This  wealth,  this  power,  is  mine." 

Grateful,  whate'er  you  need,  enjoy, 

Of  all  the  bounteous  store ; 
The  rest,  't  is  God's  command,  employ 

To  bless  His  suffering  poor. 

Give  freely,  like  the  fruitful  seed ; 

Give,  like  the  sun  and  rain,  — 
Claiming  no  merit  for  the  deed, 

Nor  asking  aught  again. 

Those  words  of  love,  a  rich  reward 

For  every  gift  shall  be,  — 
"  Ye  gave  it  unto  Christ  the  Lord, 

Ye  gave  it  unto  me." 


TEE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  225 


GOD  OF  THE  STAERY  WORLDS  ABOVE. 

INVOCATION  BEFORE  THE  DEDICATION  OF  A  CHURCH. 

GOD  of  the  starry  worlds  above  ! 
God  of  Creation's  goodly  frame  ! 
Glory,  Thy  robe  ;  Thy  nature,  love,  — 
We  rear  this  temple  to  Thy  name. 

Come,  0  Divine  Shekinah,  come  ! 

God  over  all,  here  hold  Thy  state  ! 
Dwell  in  this  house,  —  Thy  chosen  home  ; 

These  earthly  courts  Thy  presence  wait. 

Come,  like  the  peaceful  twilight  hour  ; 

Come,  like  the  glowing  noontide  ray. 
Come,  blessing  by  Thy  glorious  power ; 

Thy  light  diffuse,  Thy  grace  display. 

Come,  as  the  gentle  rain  distils 

On  new-mown  fields,  with  quickening  power ; 
Revive  us,  from  the  heavenly  hills. 

As  dews  revive  the  fainting  flower. 

And  while  our  new  hosannas  here, 

With  grateful  heart  and  voice,  we  raise, 

Descend  in  glorious  grace,  and  rear 
A  living  temple  to  Thy  praise. 


15 


226  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


COME,   0  DIVINE   SHEKINAH,   COME! 

DEDICATION  HYilN. 

COME,  0  Divine  Shekinah,  come  ! 
With  glory  fill  this  new  abode : 
Come,  —  in  our  waiting  souls  there 's  room,  — 
Display  Thy  power,  —  a  present  God. 

Come  to  our  shrine,  O  God  of  love,  — 
Come  as  a  God  of  love  and  power  ; 

Kefresh  Thy  people  from  above, 

As  dews  refresh  the  drooping  flower. 

Come  as  a  spring  and  fount  of  grace. 
Our  temple  with  Thy  light  adorn, 

As  crimson  rays  of  glory  trace 
The  gorgeous  rising  of  the  morn. 

Come  as  a  dove,  with  wings  of  peace, 
The  sad  to  cheer,  the  bruised  to  heal, 

The  wounds  that  sin  has  made,  to  ease, 
The  covenant  of  our  life  to  seal. 

Display  Thy  power,  a  present  God ; 

Come,  in  our  waiting  souls  there 's  room ; 
With  glory  fill  this  new  abode,  — 

Come,  0  Divine  Shekinah,  come ! 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  227 


DEDICATION   OF   CAEYA^LLE   CHAPEL. 

COME,  God  the  Father,  for  our  hands  have  reared 
This  sacred  shrine  to  Thy  almighty  name ; 
Come,  as,  of  old,  the  solemn  cloud  appeared, 
Wlien  to  the  temple  veil  Thy  presence  came. 

Come,  God  the  Son,  display  Thy  healing  power ; 

Accept  our  gift,  and  here  set  up  Thy  throne ; 
Our  refuge  Thou,  our  hope,  our  only  tower. 

Thy  blood  our  ransom,  reign  in  us  alone. 


Come,  God  the  Spirit,  teach  our  hearts  to  bring 
Words  of  true  prayer  ;  our  human  lips  inspire  ; 

Thine  is  the  temple,  Thme  the  psalms  we  smg ; 
Our  hearts  are  Thine  ;  Thou  art  our  souls'  desire. 


Come,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  God  alone  ; 

With  reverent  homage  at  Thy  feet  we  bow. 
We  yield  to  Thee  the  work  our  hands  have  done,  — 

Our  temple  stands,  its  crowning  glory,  Thou. 


228  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


GOD  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THE  SEA. 

RE-DEDICATION  OF  SEAMEN'S  BETHEL,  NOVEMBER  8,  1893. 
"  The  abundance  of  the  sea  shall  be  converted  unto  Thee." 

GOD  of  the  mountaiiis  and  the  sea, 
Thy  grateful  people  come  to  Thee, 
To  offer  humble  praise  and  prayer, 
Thy  love  to  own,  —  Thy  grace  to  share. 

Come,  enter.  Lord,  our  Bethel  gates, 
The  temple  for  Thy  presence  waits ; 
Display  Thy  power,  Thy  grace  make  known  ; 
In  every  heart  erect  Thy  throne. 

We  dedicate  the  house  to  Thee  ; 
Here  let  Thy  saints  Thy  glory  see, 
Thy  name  to  waiting  souls  reveal, 
The  contrite  soothe,  the  wounded  heal. 

Gather  from  every  land  and  shore 
Glad  trophies  of  Thy  saving  power, 
And  own  the  abundance  of  the  sea, 
A  rightful  offering,  Lord,  to  Thee. 


THE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  229 


THE    FATHERS,   WHERE   ARE   THEY  ? 

WHILE  centuries  pass  with  solemn  tread, 
And  kingdoms  sink,  the  Church  remains. 
From  life's  immortal  fountain  fed, 
A  light  whose  glory  never  wanes. 

Where  are  the  fathers  ?     Once  they  stood 
With  fervent  faith,  with  armor  bright ; 

Now,  gathered  with  the  sons  of  God, 
As  stars  at  morning  melt  in  light. 


Here  have  they  worshipped  ;  here  they  died  ; 

And  here  their  fallen  mantles  rest ; 
Though  gone  from  earth,  their  works  abide. 

Like  sunset  glory  in  the  west. 

Tlie  censers,  from  their  hands  we  take, 
And  wave  with  hallowed  incense  still ; 

They  sleep  in  death ;  their  cliildren  wake, 
The  lamps  with  golden  light  to  fill. 

Head  of  the  Church,  our  All,  our  Guide, 
We  own  Thy  power,  we  sing  Thy  grace ; 

Still  to  new  conquests  Thou  shalt  ride, 
And  added  centuries  speak  Thy  praise. 


230  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


SWEEP   ON,   0   CAE   OF   LIGHT! 

DEDICATION  OF  THE  GOSPEL  CAR   "EMMANUEL,"   IN 
DENVER,  COLORADO,  MAY,  1893. 

SWEEP  on,  0  car  of  Hght ! 
God  bless  thy  holy  flight ; 
On  thy  wheels  brmg 
Peace  to  the  troubled  breast, 
And,  to  the  weary,  rest ; 
Glad,  for  thy  mission  blest. 
The  angels  sing. 

Roll  o'er  the  mountain's  height ; 
Eoll  to  the  waters  bright. 

The  distant  sea ; 
Visit  the  lonely  vale, 
Outfly  the  wintry  gale ; 
Thy  errand  will  not  fail, 

God  moves  with  thee. 

Ride  on,  triumphant  Lord  ! 
Thy  Spirit  and  Thy  word 

Shall  speed  Thy  way. 
Scatter  the  shades  of  night ; 
Command,  "  Let  there  be  light ! " 
Gird  on  Thy  sword  of  might, 

And  win  the  day. 

Salvation's  chariot,  roll 
On,  till  from  pole  to  pole 
Christ  reigns  alone  ; 


XnE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  231 

Till  darkness  turns  to  day, 
Till  earth  shall  choose  His  sway, 
And  all  its  trophies  lay 
Before  His  throne. 


Davenport,  Iowa,  March,  1893. 


t>»ic 


FAREWELL  TO  THE  OLD  CHURCH. 

DEAR  is  each  well-remembered  face, 
Preserved  in  memory's  shrine  ; 
No  scene  will  drive  them  from  their  place. 

Or  dim  one  precious  line. 
We  linger,  chained  by  love,  to-day, 

Amid  the  hallowed  past, 
And  weep,  as  mournfully  we  say,  — 
This  hour  must  be  the  last. 

Here  were  our  early  footsteps  brought, 

And  here,  in  riper  years, 
Our  hearts,  with  joy  or  sorrow  fraught, 

Burdened  with  doubts  and  fears, 
Like  rivers,  swollen  with  floods  in  spring. 

Gushed  with  repentant  grief. 
Or  felt  the  power  of  grace  to  bring 

The  needed,  sweet  relief. 

Here  pilgrims  came,  with  weary  feet. 

And  sat  in  pious  trust. 
And  left,  their  pilgrimage  complete. 

The  memor}^  of  the  just ; 


232  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

We  linger  in  the  places  where 
Their  honored  footsteps  trod, 

And  trace  the  path  of  faith  and  prayer, 
By  which  they  passed  to  God. 

Here  we  have  pledged  the  solemn  vow 

To  Him  who  reigns  above ; 
Here  learned  in  humble  faith  to  bow 

To  Him  whose  name  is  Love. 
Here  have  we  stood,  a  grateful  band. 

Nor  sought  such  bonds  to  part, — 
Dear  every  brother's  faithful  hand, 

Each  sister's  loving  heart. 

As  pilgrims,  doomed  awhile  to  roam 

On  some  far  distant  shore,  — 
Returned  to  seek  their  early  home, 

Their  well  known  cottage-door,  — 
Mourn  for  the  friends  of  earlier  times, 

For  many  an  honored  head,  — 
Some  passed,  long  since,  to  other  climes. 

Some,  sleeping  with  the  dead,  — 

Some,  rifled  of  their  youthful  bloom, 

White  rose-leaves  on  their  brow, 
Some,  shadowed  o'er  by  clouds  of  gloom, 

Alas,  how  altered  now  !  — 
We  seek  the  friends  to  memory  dear,  — 

How  many  —  but  in  vain  ; 
Oh,  who  will  bring  our  loved  ones  here. 

Just  as  they  were,  again  ? 

Gone,  but  not  lost,  —  in  nobler  spheres, 
Redeemed  and  saved,  they  shine ; 


TUE   GOSPEL  MINISTRY.  233 

Each  liand  a  palm  of  glory  bears, 

Each  brow,  a  light  divine ; 
And  we  on  earth,  and  they  above, 

Led  by  one  Shepherd's  hand, 
Encircled  by  one  wreath  of  love. 

Form  still  one  blessed  band. 


Tis  done,  — we  leave  the  hallowed  ground, 

But  keep  what  grace  has  done  ; 
The  rusliing  tide  of  life  has  found 

New  victories  to  be  won  ; 
But,  temple,  where  the  saints  have  prayed. 

Where  God  has  deigned  to  dwell, 
How  shall  we  let  thy  glory  fade  ? 

How  shall  we  say  "  farewell "  ? 


How  shall  we  leave  the  sacred  shrine 

Where  once  our  fathers  trod  ; 
How  darken  here  the  light  divine 

Of  those  who  walked  with  God  ? 
With  quivering  lip,  with  tearful  eye. 

With  calm,  but  bleeding  heart. 
We  sit  in  mournful  sympathy, 

And  breathe  the  word,  —  Depart. 


But  yonder,  springs  in  joyous  hght, 

A  temple  high  and  pure  ; 
Tlie  tenants,  clad  in  raiment  bright. 

Shall  leave  its  courts  no  more ; 
No  night  shall  darken  o'er  its  wall ; 

No  sigh  with  anthems  blend  ; 
No  mourners  weep,  no  shadow  fall,  — 

Its  worship  never  end. 


234  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Then  they  that  sowed  in  faith  and  tears 

Shall  reap  in  endless  joy  ; 
And  saints  from  all  the  varied  years, 

Shall  find  one  glad  employ. 
Cemented  by  one  bond  of  love, 

Striking  one  heavenly  strain. 
Our  members  all  shall  meet  above, 

Baldwin  Place  Chukch  again. 


THE  LIVING   CUURCH.  235 


TIIE    LiymG    CHURCH. 


THE  EOCK   OF   AGES.i 

BUILT  on  the  Eock  of  Ages,  Lord, 
Thy  living  Church  abides  secure ; 
Nations  and  men  may  fade  away, 
Thy  work  of  Grace  shall  still  endure. 

This  temple,  to  Thine  honor  reared, 
Waits  for  Thy  crowning  presence  now ; 

Accept  the  work  our  hands  have  wrought ; 
We  are  but  dust,  —  almighty,  Thou. 

Here  men  of  God  shall  speak  thy  praise  ; 

Treasures  of  thought  be  gathered  here  ; 
And  truth,  from  living  lips  dispensed. 

Fall,  welcome,  on  the  listening  ear. 

With  humble  faith,  with  holy  joy. 
We  lay  our  gift  before  Thy  face  : 

'T  is  dark,  but  for  Thy  radiant  light ; 
'T  is  poor,  but  for  Thy  heavenly  Grace. 

Then  let  Thy  glorious  presence.  Lord, 
O'er  all  the  hallowed  work  appear ; 

And  let  the  living  record  stand,  — 
The  place  is  holy ;  God  is  here. 

*  Sang  at  the  dedication  of  a  church  edifice. 


236  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


GOD   ALL  IN  ALL.i 

GOD  of  all  grace,  supreme,  alone ; 
Thy  robe,  the  light ;  the  heavens.  Thy  throne ; 
The  winds.  Thy  voice ;  Thy  path,  the  sea,  — 
Eeverent,  we  bow,  and  worsliip  Thee. 

In  all  Thy  works.  Thy  hand  we  trace ; 
Creation  does  but  veil  Thy  face. 
Thy  life,  our  life ;  Thy  warmth,  our  spring  ; 
Our  only  rest.  Thy  sheltering  wing. 

Thy  breath  makes  every  pulse-beat  thrill ; 
We  feel  the  whispers  of  Thy  will ; 
We  come,  we  go,  at  Thy  command ; 
We  wait  the  moving  of  Thy  hand. 

Plant  in  our  hearts  Thy  love  and  fear ; 
Teach  us  Thy  precepts  to  revere  ; 
And  fashion  us,  through  grace,  to  be 
But  living  temples  meet  for  Thee. 

DIVINE  PEOVIDENCK 

DEDICATION  HYMN. 

OH,  praise  ye  Jehovah ;  His  glory  proclaim  ! 
Bring  joyful  hosannas  to  honor  His  name ; 
With  glad  acclamations  His  altar  draw  near ; 
Bow  low  to  His  footstool ;  Jehovah  is  here. 

^  Sung  at  Tremont  Temple,  Boston,  February  24,  1890. 


THE  LIVING  CUURCn.  237 

He  speaks  in  creation ;  He  rules  o'er  the  flood, 
Through  Nature's  wide  reahu  the  Omnipotent  God  ; 
But  chooses  the  temples  we  build  to  His  praise, 
As  shrines  for  His  name,  and  abodes  of  His  grace. 

Then  come  where  we  w^ait  Thy  blessing  to  prove, 
Thou,  strong  to  redeem,  and  Thou,  matchless  in  love ; 
Like  light  breaking  forth  from  the  gates  of  the  morn, 
May  rays  from  Thy  glory  this  temple  adorn  ! 


THE   REDEEMER'S   TEARS. 

"T^  WAS  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus, 

J-     The  two  fond  sisters,  in  their  sackcloth  robes. 
Drenched  in  affliction,  and  the  godless  Jews, 
In  that  one  scene  made  lovely,  as  they  went 
To  weep  with  Mary  at  the  sepulchre, 
Stood  there,  a  grieving  circle.     She  came  forth. 
Obedient,  e'en  m  sorrow,  to  the  call 
Of  Him  who  called  for  her.     There  was  no  voice 
Among  the  whited  stones  that  pointed  out 
The  home  of  dead  men,  and  no  scenery, 
Or  sweet,  or  gorgeous,  in  the  liills  or  vales 
Of  loveliest  form  and  hue  that  spread  around  them. 
To  call  forth  a  moment's  admiration  ; 
There  was  one  absorbing  sense  of  sorrow, 
That  burned  at  the  heart's  core.     The  glorious  voice 
Of  Him  who  raised,  triumphant,  the  dead  brother 
Had  not  broke  out  in  holy  thnnksgiWng ; 
But  there  they  stood,  consumed  by  their  deep  grief, 
And  there  —  there,  Jesus  ivcpt. 


238  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

The  evening  sun  slanted  among  the  hills 
Where  Zion's  temple  shone.     Down  the  descent 
Of  Olivet  a  joyous  crowd  advanced, 
Singing  hosannas  unto  Him  that  came,  — 
The  Son  of  David,  and  yet  David's  Lord, 
The  prophet  of  their  nation  ;  not  as  when 
Each  heart  beat  sadly,  and  the  silent  tears 
Stole  down  the  cheeks  of  all  the  sorrowing  band 
At  the  dead  brother's  tomb.     Now  all  was  gay 
And  bright.     But  unto  a  devoted  place, 
Cursed  as  the  dwelling  of  the  crucifiers. 
The  crucifiers  of  the  Lord  of  life 
And  glory,  they  were  drawing  near.     The  crowd, 
Eejoicing  in  their  city,  and  the  sheen 
Of  their  own  glorious  temple,  pressed  their  way. 
Thoughtless  of  coming  evil.     But,  behold ! 
Amid  the  happy  throng  one  stretched  His  gaze 
Into  eternity,  soon  to  receive 
The  uncomforted  inhabitants,  whose  towers 
Were  ready  to  their  fall,  —  the  inhabitants 
Who  knew  not  when  their  visitation  came ; 
One  gazed  in  silent  sadness  as  He  thought 
Upon  their  coming  fate,  and  Jesus  wept. 

Wept  twice  on  earth,  —  once  at  the  tomb  of  him 
Whose  sorrowing  sisters  He  had  loved ;  and  once. 
When  He  foresaw  Jerusalem's  dread  fate. 


TUE  LIVING   CUURCU.  239 


THE  LAST   SUPPER. 

JOHN  XIII.  1;  XIV.  14,23,27. 

FROM  the  villages  retiring, 
Burning  with  a  holy  flame, 
Thongh  His  last  days  were  expiring, 

Jesus  to  the  city  came  : 
Still  His  owTi  disciples  loving, 

He  had  words  of  peace  to  say  ; 
Anxious  thoughts  His  breast  were  moving 
As  drew  near  the  farewell  day. 


Round  the  sacred  table  sitting, 

When  the  traitorous  foe  had  gone, 
Love  their  souls  more  closely  knitting, 

As  the  dreadful  scene  drew  on. 
Pledges  of  His  love  He  gave  them. 

Sweet  memorials  of  His  name  ; 
Then  declared  how  He,  to  save  them, 

From  the  Father's  bosom  came. 

Peace  I  leave  —  my  dying  token  — 

'T  is  my  peace  I  give  to  you  ; 
Let  the  words  that  I  have  spoken 

Be  your  trust  and  comfort  too. 
For  a  little  while  I  leave  you, 

To  my  Father  I  must  go ; 
Yet  I  will  not  —  will  not  grieve  you, 

But  the  Comforter  bestow. 


240  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Mansions  in  yon  world  of  glory, 

I  am  going  to  prepare  ; 
Though  the  path  be  dark  and  gory, 

Ye  shall  all  be  with  Me  there. 
Father,  let  Thy  mercy  guide  them, 

Sanctify  them  by  Thy  grace  ; 
And,  whatever  woes  betide  them, 

Let  them  see  Thy  smiling  face. 


>J«o 


GETHSEMANE. 

BEYOND  where  Cedron's  waters  flow. 
Behold  the  suffering  Saviour  go. 
To  sad  Gethsemane. 
His  countenance  is  all  divine  ; 
Yet  grief  appears  in  every  line. 


He  bows  beneath  the  sins  of  men ; 
He  cries  to  God,  and  cries  again. 

In  sad  Gethsemane. 
He  lifts  His  mournful  eyes  above,  — 
"  My  Father,  can  this  cup  remove  ? " 


With  gentle  resignation  still, 
He  yielded  to  His  Father's  will, 

In  sad  Gethsemane ; 
"  Behold  Me  here,  Thine  only  Son ; 
And,  Father,  let  Thy  will  be  done." 


THE  LIVING   CUURCH.  241 

The  Father  lieard ;  and  angels,  there. 
Sustained  the  Son  of  God  iu  prayer, 

In  sad  Gethsemane  ; 
He  drank  the  dreadful  cup  of  pain. 
Then  rose  to  life  and  joy  again. 


When  storms  of  sorrow  round  us  sweep, 
And  scenes  of  anguish  make  us  weep. 

To  sad  Gethsemane 
We  '11  look,  and  see  the  Saviour  there, 
And  humbly  bow,  like  Him,  in  prayer. 


THE  LOED   IS   EISEN! 

THE   Lord  is  risen  !  and  angels  wait 
Around  the  place  where  Jesus  slept ; 
'Mid   Eoman  swords  and  Jewish  hate, 
Unseen,  their  loving  watch  they  kept. 

The  Lord  is  risen  !     The  guard,  the  seal. 
Conspire  to  hold  their  trust,  in  vain. 

He  lives  !  He  lives  !     Before  Him  kneel ! 
The  Conqueror  now,  though  once  the  Slain. 


The  Lord  is  risen  !     The  timid  few 

Heard  with  faint  faith  the  wondrous  word  ; 

"  Can  such  deep  mystery  be  true  ?  " 

"  Where,  gardener,  hast  thou  laid  my  Lord  ? " 

16 


242  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

He  looked  !  He  spoke !  —  His  loving  word 
Made  the  sad  woman's  heart  rejoice ; 

"  Mary,"  —  she  knew  her  risen  Lord ; 
"  Eabboni,"  —  't  is  the  Master's  voice ! 

The  Lord  is  risen  !  —  Death's  reign  is  o'er ; 

The  goal  acliieved,  the  victory  won. 
The  Lord  is  risen  !   His  name  adore ! 

The  great  atoning  work  is  done ! 


THE  LIVING  CHUECH  SWEEPS  ON.i 

CENTENNIAL  HYMN. 

BLEST  be  the  ancient  men  whose  feet 
Once  sought  these  holy  towers ; 
Blest  be  the  saints  whose  voices  sweet 
Hallowed  the  sacred  hours. 

Blest  be  the  sires  whose  Christly  speech 

In  silvery  accents  flowed  ; 
So  skilled  to  pray,  so  skilled  to  preach,  — 

Men  grandly  taught  of  God. 

Numbered  among  the  holy  dead. 
Their  forms  from  earth  are  gone ; 

Through  all  the  century's  silent  tread, 
The  Living  Church  sweeps  on. 

^  Written  for  the  Church  of  the  Epiphany,  New  York  City,  May  10, 
1891. 


THE  LIVING   CnURCU.  243 

Have  faith  in  God ;  His  sceptred  arm 

O'er  time  and  tempest  reigns  ; 
His  little  tiock,  secure  from  harm, 

Safe  on  the  Eock  remains. 

God  of  our  fathers,  in  Thy  name 

Our  banners  still  we  raise  ; 
Thy  changeless  love,  the  years  proclaim. 

And  swell  Thy  sounding  praise. 


A  EICH   BEQUEST. 

WHERE  are  the  ancient  men  who  reared 
In  faith  this  honored  shrine  ? 
Where  are  the  godly  souls  whose  deeds 
On  this  fair  record  shine  ? 


Joined  to  yon  glorious  host  on  high,  — 
The  heavenly  Bridegroom's  train  ; 

Choice  souls  !  —  to  them,  to  live  was  Christ, 
To  them,  to  die  was  gain. 

The  Church,  the  world,  their  native  land, 

They  served  with  noble  lives  ; 
Loved  and  lamented  !  and  their  faith, 

A  rich  bequest,  survives. 

The  long  procession  upward  winds 

To  the  celestial  shore ; 
The  living,  loving,  keep  the  path 

The  leaders  trod  before. 


244  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

As  beams  the  sun  from  age  to  age, 

With  undimiuished  blaze, 
Lord,  may  the  light  they  kindled  here 

Sliine  ever  to  Thy  praise. 

Head  of  the  Church,  while  rolling  years 

Their  solemn  course  fulfil, 
Smile  on  the  work  the  fathers  wrought, 

And  bless  their  children  still. 

May  9,  1890. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  245 


CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE. 


THE  PEESENT   AND   THE   ETERNAL. 

'  'T^  IS  but  a  step  to  yon  bright  world, 
X       The  home  above  the  skies  ; 

As  evening  beauty  scarcely  pales, 
E'er  morning's  glories  rise. 

'T  is  but  an  hour,  —  and  scenes  of  grief 

Shall  change  to  joy  again, 
As  rainbows  crown  the  passing  cloud 

With  sunlight,  after  rain. 

A  tale  of  woe,  a  sad  farewell, 

A  shriek  of  pain  or  grief,  — 
'T  is  but  a  wave  that  stirs  the  air, 

A  breeze  that  fans  the  leaf. 

'T  is  but  a  shadow,  when  the  sun 

Is  hid  in  dim  eclipse ; 
'T  is  but  a  frozen  dewdrop  when 

The  frost  the  rose-leaf  nips. 

The  frost  dissolves  ;  the  dew  exhales  ; 

The  rose-tree  blooms  anew  ; 
The  shadow  passes ;  burns  the  sun, 

As  erst,  in  heaven's  bright  blue. 


246  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

'T  is  but  a  night  when  darkness  rules, 

And  mortals  tread  uncertain  ; 
Quick  comes  the  dawn,  and  beaming  morn 

Pours  sunlight  through  the  curtain. 

Not  time,  nor  space,  nor  work  shall  e'er 
Love's  clasping  tendrils  sever  ; 

As  clinging  vines  still  upward  climb, 
And,  climbing,  cling  forever. 

0  blessed  bond  of  loving  hearts  ; 

Blest  union,  never  broken ; 
Blest  land,  where  tears  are  never  shed, 

And  farewells  never  spoken  ! 

Through  joy  and  grief,  through  pain  and  death. 
We  tread  towards  heaven's  high  portal, 

And  yield,  unmoved,  the  things  that  change, 
For  flowers  and  fruits  immortal 

November  7,  1866. 


o>3i=:c 


DESPONDENCY. 

THE  clouds  of  affliction  and  pain 
Have  shrouded  in  mourning  the  sky  ; 
Thick  darkness  conceals  all  the  plain, 

And  tempests  are  hurrying  by. 
I  cry  out,  with  sorrow  o'erwhelmed, 

While  tears  from  my  weeping  eyes  break ; 
When  shall  I  with  sorrow  be  done ; 
Oh,  when  in  Thy  likeness  awake  ? 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  247 

Yet  'tis  not  my  friends  that  I  mourn, — 

I  weep  not  that  loved  ones  retire ; 
I  grieve  not  that  I  am  forlorn, 

And  earthly  enjoyments  expire. 
My  Saviour  !  my  Saviour !  my  God  ! 

Why  dost  Tliou  my  spirit  forsake  ? 
Oh,  when  shall  I  throw  off  my  load  ? 

Oh,  when  in  Thy  likeness  awake  ? 

The  winds  of  temptation  arise, 

And  howl  o'er  my  pathway  of  night ; 
The  cloud  never  moves  from  the  skies, 

To  show  the  blest  beaming  of  light. 
With  madness  I  rush  into  sin, 

Then  grief  comes,  my  poor  heart  to  break  ; 
When  shall  I  be  sinful  no  more  ? 

Oh,  when  in  Thy  likeness  awake  ? 

Oh,  when  shall  my  Sabbaths  again 

Be  sweet  and  delightful  to  me  ? 
When  shall  I,  my  Saviour,  obtain 

Communion  of  spirit  with  Thee  ? 
This  darkness  and  dulness  I  long, 

I  long  from  my  bosom  to  shake ; 
When  shall  I  to  gladness  return  ? 

Oh,  when  in  Thy  likeness  awake  ? 

My  Saviour !  my  Saviour !  I  wait, 

I  wait  till  Thy  glory  arise  ; 
I  watch  at  Thy  merciful  gate. 

Till  li^ht  bursts  a^ain  from  the  skies. 
Then  gladness  shall  swell  in  my  breast, 

No  more  these  complaints  shall  I  make ; 
But  calmly  my  spirit  shall  rest. 

And  I,  in  Thy  likeness,  awake. 


248  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


CONSECRATION. 

'  'Tn  WAS  God  who  heard  when  hope  was  dying ; 

X       'T  was  God  who  made  me  look  and  Uve. 
He  saw  me  to  His  covenant  flying, 

And  condescended  to  forgive. 

From  long  distress  and  thoughts  of  anguish, 

He  gave  my  spirit  sweet  release  ; 
No  more  in  sorrow  left  to  languish, 

My  bosom  now  has  perfect  peace. 

Tell  me,  dear  Saviour,  what  oblation 
To  Heaven's  high  altar  shall  I  bring  ? 

What  sacrifice  for  such  salvation, 
To  Thee  my  life,  my  God,  my  King  ? 

My  soul,  myself,  my  all,  I  give  Thee, 

Forever  to  be  Thine  alone  ; 
And  let  my  praise  —  for  Thou  art  worthy  — 

Swell  in  rich  numbers  to  Thy  throne. 

Accept  my  service,  blessed  Spirit, 
Till  I  my  course  on  earth  have  sped  ; 

Then  let  me  endless  life  inherit, 
Still  onward  by  Thy  guidance  led. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  249 


IMPORTUNITY   IN   PEAYER. 

"LET  ME  GO,   FOR  THE  DAY  BREAKETH." 

GO  ?     When  the  promise  stands, 
That  a  faithful  God  will  hear  ! 
Go  ?  when  the  Intercessor's  voice 
Sounds  in  the  Almighty's  ear  ! 
Go  ?  When  my  inmost  spirit  breaks, 
For  the  longing  it  hath  for  Thee  ! 
Oh,  no  !  the  Blessed  shall  not  go, 
Until  He  blesses  me  ! 

There  is  life  in  the  gracious  God,  — 

A  fountain  that  cannot  fail ; 
A  gentle  hand  that  can  wipe  the  tear, 

And  soothe  the  contrite  wail. 
There  is  One  who  can  speak  the  word, 

And  the  blind  shall  rise  and  see ; 
Oh,  then,  the  Blessed  shall  not  go, 

Until  He  blesseth  me  ! 

Yes,  ashes  and  dust  may  plead 

With  the  Holy  One  above  ; 
And  the  earnest  prayer  ascend 

To  the  God  whose  name  is  Love ; 
Angels  may  not  be  sent 

In  their  heavenly  ministry, — 
But  the  Blessed  shall  never  go, 

Until  He  blesseth  me. 


250  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

My  spirit  glows  in  faith. 

My  heart  in  strong  desire  ; 
And  God  will  come  —  will  come 

Ere  the  lamp  of  life  expire. 
Thou  wilt  not  desert,  I  know. 

The  heart  that  clings  to  Thee  ; 
Oh,  no  !  the  Blessed  will  not  go. 

Until  He  blesseth  me  ! 


FAR  FROM   EARTH. 

FAR  from  earth  retreating, 
From  its  scenes  so  fleeting, 
Lord,  I  come  to  Thee. 
From  Thy  glorious  dwelling, 
Where  heaven's  joys  are  welling, 
Saviour,  look  on  me  ! 
Let  Thy  light 
Dispel  my  night ; 
Let  Thy  holy  peace  come  o'er  me, 
While  I  bend  before  Thee. 

Worldly  hopes,  I  speak  not, 
Worldly  good,  I  seek  not, 

Here  before  Thy  throne  ; 
Let  Thy  Spirit,  shining, 
Come,  from  sin  refining ; 
Let  Thy  blood  atone. 

From  my  heart 

Let  earth  depart. 
Every  idol  object  sever ; 
In  me  reign  forever. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  251 

Lord,  behold  me  waiting, 
Freely  consecrating 

All  I  have  to  Thee ; 
Near  Thy  cross  abiding, 
In  Thy  love  confiding, 

Longing  Thine  to  be. 
Come,  then,  come. 
My  heart  illume ; 
Make  my  soul  Thy  Spirit's  dwelling, 
Rebel  thoughts  expelling. 

Grace  has  made  me  willing,  — 
Grace,  my  spirit  filling  ; 

Lord,  the  praise  be  Thine ; 
When,  with  free  salvation, 
Saved  from  condemnation. 

Near  Thy  throne  I  shine. 
Then  the  strain 
Shall  swell  again,  — 
Glory  to  Thy  love,  blest  Saviour  ! 
Reign,  0  reign,  forever  ! 


PASSING  ON,  PASSING  UP. 

PASSING  on,  passing  up,  to  the  platform  of  life, 
Its  honors,  its  trials,  its  glory,  its  strife ; 
Passing  on,  passing  up,  as  day  follows  on  day,  — 
Passing  on,  passing  up,  and  then,  passing  away. 

The  honored,  the  cherished,  the  good,  have  passed  on, 
Like  morning  stars,  lost  in  the  glow  of  the  sun,  — 
The  seal  on  their  virtues,  in  safety  their  fame, 
No  stain  on  their  record,  no  blot  on  their  name. 


252  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

The  silver-tongued  prophet  sleeps  silent,  aside ; 
The  statesman  lies  low  in  his  manhood's  young  pride  ; 
Our  comrades  in  toil  have  passed  on  before,  — 
Passing  on,  passing  up,  to  the  heavenly  shore. 

Still  the  flag  of  distress,  in  our  sight,  is  unfurled ; 
Still  waits  for  the  sickle,  the  field  of  the  world ; 
Still  high  on  the  tower  where  the  herald  has  been. 
Is  emblazoned  the  call, "  Wanted,  Christians,  and  men  ! ' 

0  men  for  the  times  !  with  heart  and  with  hands, 
Go,  toil  where  the  Master  your  labor  demands  ; 
And,  faithful,  toil  on,  till  the  close  of  the  day,  — 
Passing  onward  and  upward,  and  passing  away. 

Mat,  1868. 

THY  WILL,  0  LOED,  BE  DONE. 

THY  way,  O  God,  is  best,  — 
Thy  way,  not  mine  ; 
Patient  beneath  Thy  rod. 
Quick  to  obey  Thy  nod. 
Because  Thou  art  my  God,  — 
Thy  way,  not  mine. 

I  know  Thy  wise  design ; 

Thy  will  is  mine. 
From  earthly  dross  refine. 
Shape  to  the  mould  divine. 
My  soul  shall  ne'er  repine,  — 

Thy  will,  not  mine. 

Clay  in  the  potter's  hand, 
Thy  will  is  mine. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  253 

'T  is  Tliine,  the  vase  to  make, 
Or  Thine,  dear  Lord,  to  break  ; 
Thiue,  or  to  give,  or  take,  — 
Thy  will,  not  mine. 

Sorrow,  or  joy,  be  seut,  — 

Thy  will  is  mine  ; 
In  all.  Thy  love  I  see  ; 
Whate'er  my  lot  may  be, 
I  trust  my  all  to  Thee,  — 

Thy  will  is  mine. 

March  30,   1892. 

YE  AKE   NOT   YOUR   OWN. 

OH,  not  my  own  these  vertlant  hills, 
And  fruits  and  tlowers,  and  stream  and  wood ; 
But  His,  who  all  with  glory  fills, 

Who  bought  me  with  His  precious  blood ! 

Oh,  not  my  own  this  wondrous  frame, 

Its  curious  work,  its  living  soul ; 
But  His,  who  for  my  ransom  came, 

Slain  for  my  sake,  —  He  claims  the  whole  ! 

Oh,  not  my  own,  the  grace  that  keeps 

My  feet  from  fierce  temptations  free  ! 
Oh,  not  my  own,  the  thought  that  leaps, 

Adoring,  blessed  Lord,  to  Tliee  ! 

Oh,  not  my  own  !  I  '11  soar  and  sing. 

When  life,  and  all  its  toils,  are  o'er ; 
And  Thou  Thy  trembling  lamb  shalt  bring 

Safe  home,  —  to  wander  never  more  ! 


254  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


ALL  THINGS  ARE  YOUES. 

ALL  that  is  pleasant  to  the  eye,  — 
The  earth  with  all  her  stores, 
The  glowing  sun,  the  rainbow's  dye,  — 
All  present  things  are  yours. 

The  throne  where  all  the  holy  bow  ; 

The  mansions  where  they  rest  ; 
The  sweet,  refreshing  gales  that  blow ; 

The  raptures  of  the  blest ; 

The  harp,  the  robes,  the  diadem  ; 

The  never-fading  flowers  ; 
Heaven's  shaded  walks  and  living  stream. 

All  coming  things  are  yours  ! 

All  things  are  yours,  for  Jesus  dwells 

Within  your  glowing  heart ; 
And  many  a  raptured  feeling  tells, 

He  never  will  depart. 

All  tilings  are  yours,  and  Christ  is  God's  ! 

Tho'  grief  your  day  obscures. 
Soon  you  shall  see  heaven's  bright  abode. 

And  know  that  all  is  yours ! 


CHIilSTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  255 


A   PRESENT   HELP   IN   TROUBLE. 

WHEN  God  is  near, 
O  heart  with  sorrow  swelling, 
Pour  out  thy  grief,  thy  tale  of  anguish  telling ; 
And  love  will  wipe  each  flowing  tear, 
When  God  is  near. 


When  God  comes  nigh. 
Peace  quells  the  soul's  commotion. 
And  sheds  the  sweet  serene  of  calm  devotion  ; 

And  every  cloud  of  grief  must  fly, 

When  God  comes  nigh. 


When  God  comes  near, 
Let  every  heart  receive  Him ; 
Slight  not  the  Spirit's  call,  nor  dare  to  grieve  Him ; 

"  The  still  small  voice,"  be  wise  to  hear. 

When  God  is  near. 


When  God  is  nigh. 
Covet  not  earthly  pleasure. 
But  seek  in  heaven  an  ever-during  treasure  ; 

Each  tear  is  seen,  and  heard  each  sigh, 

When  God  is  nigh. 


256  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


THEKE'S   REST   FOR   THEE. 

THERE 'S  rest  for  thee, 
Fond  heart,  who  life  art  wasting. 
Remit  thy  eager  search  of  earth-born  bliss  ; 
The  Saviour  seek  —  true  fount  of  happiness. 
Elee  to  that  refuge  while  thy  days  are  hasting ! 

There  's  peace  for  thee  ; 
Whose  heart  is  all  commotion, 

The  voice  of  Christ  can  calm  the  troubled  sea. 

Forsake  thy  sins,  and  to  His  covenant  flee, 
And  sweet  shall  be  thy  course  o'er  life's  rough  ocean. 

There  's  hope  for  thee. 
Whose  soul  is  rent  with  sadness. 

With  humble  trust  thy  all  to  Jesus  give ; 

Give  Him  thy  heart,  for  Him  resolve. 
Then,  on  thy  night,  shall  rise  the  star  of  gladness. 

There 's  life  for  thee. 

Who,  weary  with  delaying, 

Shalt  haste  to  Jesus,  while  He  waits  to  save, 
Who  for  thy  life  His  life  so  freely  gave,  — 

The  sacred  call  of  love  at  once  obeying. 


CURLS TI AN  EXPERIENCE.  257 


ALL   ONE   IN   CHPJST. 

ALL   one   in   Christ,  —  though,   plains   and    hills 
dividing, 
Our  earthly  homes  are  far  asunder  placed  ; 
All  one  in  Christ,  —  in  Him  our  souls  abiding, 
O'er  the  broad  earth  or  on  the  ocean  waste. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  bound  in  divine  communion, 
And  He  the  cynosure,  —  the  changeless  Word. 

One  Sovereign  rules  ;  the  watchword  of  our  union. 
One  faith,  one  baptism,  and  one  risen  Lord. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  should  grief,  or  joy,  betide  us  ; 

Or  health,  or  sickness,  life,  or  death,  be  ours,  — 
His  word  shall  cheer,  His  loving  hand  shall  guide  us, 

His  name  revive,  like  incense-breathing  flowers. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  His  voice  the  fiercest  battle, 
Like  Galilee's  wild  waves,  can  quell  and  calm ; 

Assuage  the  tumult,  still  the  tempest's  rattle, 
For  pain  give  ease,  for  waiting,  victory's  psalm. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  man's  passions,  like  the  billow, 
May  roar  and  dash  around  with  frightful  shock ; 

Held  in  His  leash,  light  as  the  air-swept  willow. 
They  lash  in  vain  the  Everlasting  Eock. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  our  paths,  in  varied  winding. 
May  seem  unheeding  of  Heaven's  grand  accord  ; 

The  rills  of  life,  new  channels  ever  finding. 
Shall  all  converge  in  Him,  our  loving  Lord. 

17 


258  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  life's  discipline  and  rasping 
May  fret,  and  grind,  and  wear  the  sufferer  down ; 

But  there 's  a  gracious  Hand,  the  faint  form  clasping,  — 
The  cross  to-day ;  be  patient,  then  the  crown. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  the  fields  must  have  their  tilling  ; 

O'er  earth,  His  heritage,  for  Him  we  roam ; 
With  ready  hands  we  toil,  and  spirit  willing. 

Till  the  great  Husbandman  shall  call  us  home. 

All  one  in  Christ,  —  soon  will  the  great  forever 
Yield  to  the  weary  workers  needed  rest ; 

Toil  waste  no  more,  and  sorrow  grieve,  —  no,  never,  — 
The  loved  disciple  on  the  Master's  breast. 


oj<«o 


FOLLOWING   CHEIST. 

WITH  willing  hearts  we  tread 
The  path  the  Saviour  trod  ; 
We  love  the  example  of  our  Head, 
The  glorious  Lamb  of  God. 

On  Thee,  on  Thee  alone. 
Our  hope  and  faith  rely,  — 

O  Thou,  who  didst  for  sin  atone, 
Who  didst  for  sinners  die  ! 

We  trust  Thy  sacrifice  ; 

To  Thy  dear  cross  we  flee. 
Oh,  may  we  die  to  sin,  and  rise 

To  life  and  bliss  with  Thee. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  259 


CHRISTIAN   FELLOWSHIP. 

LANTED  in  Christ,  the  living  vine, 
^       This  day  with  one  accord, 
Ourselves,  with  humble  faith  aud  joy, 
We  yield  to  Thee,  0  Lord ! 


P 


Jomed  in  one  body  may  we  be ; 

One  inward  life  partake  ; 
One  be  our  heart ;   one  heavenly  hope 

In  every  bosom  wake ! 

In  prayer,  in  effort,  tears,  and  toils, 

One  wisdom  be  our  guide  ; 
Taught  by  one  Spirit  from  above. 

In  Thee  may  we  abide. 

Complete  in  us,  whom  grace  hath  called. 
Thy  glorious  work  begun,  — 

0  Thou,  in  whom  the  Church  on  earth, 
And  Church  in  heaven,  are  one  ! 

Around  this  feeble,  trusting  band, 
Thy  sheltering  pinions  spread. 

Nor  let  the  storms  of  trial  beat 
Too  fiercely  on  our  head ! 

Then,  when,  among  the  saints  in  light. 

Our  joyful  spirits  shine, 
Shall  anthems  of  immortal  praise, 

0  Lamb  of  God,  be  Thme  ! 


260  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


JESUS   IS   PASSING   BY. 

"THE   RESOLVE." 

THE  voice  of  joyful  ones  I  hear, 
It  warbles  sweet  and  high  ; 
Arise,  my  soul,  the  Lord  is  near,  — 
Jesus  is  passing  by  ! 

Long  have  I  waited  at  the  pool ; 

Why  should  I  longer  stay  ? 
Come,  Saviour,  make  my  spirit  whole  ; 

My  Saviour,  come  away  ! 

No  longer  will  I,  listless,  wait ; 

No  more,  excuses  frame ; 
No  more  with  earth  and  sin  debate ; 

No  more  Thy  goodness  blame. 

The  world  no  more  shall  have  my  heart ; 

I  will  rebel  no  more  ; 
From  cherished  sin,  to-day,  I  part, 

And  sparing  Love  adore. 

The  chief  of  sinners,  Lord  !  I  come, 

And  cast  myself  on  Thee ; 
Thou  art  the  weary  wanderer's  home,  — 

My  home,  dear  Saviour,  be  ! 

The  work  is  done ;  my  God  is  mine,  — 

Glory  to  God  !  I  sing  ; 
Jesus,  the  glory  all  be  Thine ; 

Let  all  creation  ring ! 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  261 


A   FOEETASTE   OF   HEAVEN. 

BLEST  be  the  sacred  tie  that  binds 
All  Christian  hearts  in  one ; 
Blest  be  the  fellowships  of  earth,  — 
The  joy  of  heaven  begun. 

Blest  be  the  scenes,  the  sacred  scenes, 

When  tears  forget  to  start ; 
When  soul,  to  happy  soul,  responds. 

And  heart,  to  Christian  heart. 

Blest  be  the  hours,  the  sacred  hours. 

Foretaste  of  bliss  above  ; 
Each  speaking  eye,  each  throbbing  pulse, 

Speaks,  throbs,  with  Christian  love. 

Dear  antepast  of  joys  to  come  ! 

Earth  hails  the  radiant  glow ; 
Light  from  that  world  illumines  this, 

And  heaven  is  felt  below. 

OCTOBEK  12,  1886. 


o>»ic 


ABOUNDING  MERCY. 

AFTER  TWO    HUNDRED    YEARS. 

OH !  sing  to  the  praise  of  the  Saviour  above, 
Unchanging  His  wisdom,  immortal  His  love ; 
Extolled  l)e  His  mercy,  and  hallowed  His  name, 
Who  dwelt  in  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  of  flame. 


262  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

His  hand  through  the  desert  has  guided  our  way, 
Our  shelter  by  night,  and  our  glory  by  day ; 
The  fathers  are  garnered  at  rest  in  the  grave,  — 
But  Jesus  still  triumphs,  almighty  to  save. 

The  harvests  are  waving,  as  waves  the  ripe  grain, 
Fruit,  once  sown  in  tears,  of  the  centuries  twain  ; 
The  billows  no  more  beat  with  furious  shock ; 
The  Church  safely  stands  on  its  basis  of  rock. 

More  ages,  still  following,  their  circuit  shall  run  ; 
More  gems  light  the   crown  wliich  our  Saviour  has 

won  ; 
More  trophies  of  grace  to  their  Lord  shall  be  given,  — 
Then  echo  the  Jubilee  anthem  in  heaven. 


UP!     YE    SAINTS! 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

T  TP !  ye  saints,  and  raise 
^*-^      Songs  of  grateful  praise  ; 
While  your  hearts  are  warm, 
While,  in  calm  or  storm, 
Eiver,  hill,  and  tree, 
You,  your  God  can  see, 

All  the  glories  showing 

Of  His  love  o'erflowing ! 

Once  you  trod  the  path 
Leading  on  to  death ; 
With  the  Spirit  strove. 
Scorned  His  offered  love. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  263 

Aud,  with  wicked  hands, 

Burst  His  sacred  bauds. 
All  this  He  forgave  you ; 
How  He  longed  to  save  you ! 

Light,  He  sweetly  shed,  — 

Peace  about  you  spread  ; 

O'er  the  guilty  soul 

Bade  salvatiou  roll. 

Cleansed  your  heart  from  sin, 

Kindly  entered  in  ;  — 
Scattered  all  your  sadness. 
Filled  your  souls  with  gladness  ! 

Tell  your  joys  abroad  ! 

Praise  your  Saviour,  God ! 

Sinful  wanderers  bring 

From  their  wandering, 

Back  to  Him,  who  knows 

All  their  wants  and  woes, — 
Joyfully  returning 
While  His  love  is  yearning. 

Then,  what  glories  wait 

Your  celestial  state  ! 

Ever  ye  shall  shine. 

Clothed  in  light  divine. 

Where  the  ransomed  sing. 

And  glad  voices  ring,  — 
Wliile  each  spirit  raises 
Never-ending  praises ! 


264  P0E2IS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


SALVATION. 

WHAT  peace  is  this  that  springs  within  my  mind ; 
What  light  and  joy,  where  all  was  dark  and 
bhnd? 
How  lovely  all  creation  looks  to  me ! 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  Salvation  be  ? 

My  weight  of  guilt  has  hasted  all  away ; 
I  cannot  make  one  thought  of  sadness  stay ; 
From  God,  in  terror,  I  no  longer  flee,  — 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  Salvation  be  ? 

All  Nature  seems  to  echo,  "  God  is  love !  " 
Sweet  voice  !  it  rings  around  me  and  above ; 
That  glorious  God,  my  spirit  sighs  to  see,  — 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  Salvation  be  ? 

Ye  men  of  God,  I  love  your  blest  retreat ; 
I  love  your  names ;  converse  with  you  is  sweet ; 
To  dwell  in  God's  dear  house,  is  bliss  to  me,  — 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  Salvation  be  ? 

0  blessed,  gracious  Saviour,  well  I  know, 
'T  is  from  Thy  love  these  fond  emotions  flow ; 
'T  is  from  Salvation's  fount,  so  full  and  free. 
These  joys,  so  pure  and  grateful,  come  to  me. 

While  to  the  cross,  my  heart,  dependent,  clings, 
"Glory  to. God  !"  my  happy  spirit  sings. 
No  storms  of  earth  my  pleasure  can  impair ; 
Peace  fills  my  bosom,  —  peace  is  rooted  there. 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  265 


THE  TRUSTING  SOUL. 

PSALM   XCI. 


T 


^HE  niau  who  dwells 

Beneath  Thy  shade,  Most  High, 
Shall  in  Thy  love  abide ; 
Thy  grace  (.Uspels 
His  fears,  when  storms  are  nigh  ; 
Thou  dost  His  footsteps  guide. 
The  Lord  from  pestilence  will  guard  Thee, 
And  no  temptation  shall  retard  thee  ; 
'T  is  God  that  heals. 

Beneath  His  wing 
Thy  steadfast  soul  shall  trust ; 
His  truth  shall  be  thy  shield, 
Tho'  death  should  bring 
His  thousands  to  the  dust, 

And  fainting  hope  should  yield  ; 
Tho'  dark  disease  should  hover  by  thee. 
No  hurtful  damp  shall  e'er  come  nigh  thee. 
Nor  sorrow  sting. 

Because  thy  heart 
Hath  made  its  refuge  God, 
No  woe  shall  thee  befall ; 
No  poisoned  dart, 
No  desolating  rod, 

Shall  mix  thy  life  with  gall ; 
But  angels  in  their  hands  shall  bear  thee 
Above  the  foes  that  would  ensnare  thee, 
And  peace  impart. 


266  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Because  the  soul 
Hath  set  on  Me  his  love, 
I  will  from  danger  save  ; 
And  peace  shall  roll 
By  him  whom  I  approve, 
Its  soft  and  soothing  wave. 
His  voice  shall  call,  and  I  will  hear  him. 
And  in  his  trouble  will  be  near  him 
THl  joy  be  full. 


BLEST   BE   THE   HOLY   BANDS.i 

BLEST  be  the  holy  bands. 
Uniting  hearts  and  hands,  — 
One  chain  of  love  ; 
One  life,  one  hope,  one  aim ; 
One  faith  in  one  blest  Kame ; 
Our  Eock,  our  God,  the  same, 
Below,  above. 

Cleansed  by  atoning  blood, 
"Washed  in  one  healing  flood. 

One  God  we  own ; 
Ours,  to  accept  His  word. 
Ours,  to  obey  our  Lord, 
Making,  with  glad  accord, 

Our  hearts  His  throne. 

The  whispering  pine  and  palm 
Shall  blend  in  one  sweet  psalm, 
Dear  Lord,  to  Thee  ; 

1  Reception  at  Richmond,  Va.,  of  500  New  England  guests,  May,  1886. 


CURISriAN  EXPERIENCE.  207 

We  seek  the  world  to  save ; 
We  form  one  army  brave, 
As  thousand  drops,  one  wave. 
All  streams,  one  sea. 

Glory  to  God  our  King ! 
Saviour,  Tliy  kingdom  bring. 

Thy  will  be  done  ; 
Exert  Thy  glorious  might, 
Put  all  Thy  foes  to  flight ; 
Triumphant,  claim  Thy  right, 

And  wear  Thy  crown. 


oj*;o 


BLEST  BE  THE  BONDS  OF  CHEISTIAN  LOVE. 

BLEST  be  the  bonds  of  Christian  love 
That  bind  our  hearts  in  one  ; 
Blest  foretaste  of  the  bliss  above,  — 
Our  heaven  on  earth  begun. 

Kindred  in  Christ,  our  hopes  we  rest, 

Alike  on  His  dear  name ; 
One  love  inspires  each  throbbing  breast,  — 

Our  covenant-vows,  the  same. 

Our  prayers  from  many  hearts  ascend,  — 

One  cloud  before  the  throne  ; 
Our  many  grateful  voices  blend 

In  one  harmonious  tone. 

So  joy  for  joy,  and  tear  for  tear, 

And  grace  for  grace  is  given  ; 
So  the  glad  harvest,  ripened  here, 

Shall  crown  our  love  in  heaven. 


268  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


A  CENTENAEY  HYMN.i 

\  T  7  E  reap  to-day  the  glorious  fruit 
VV       Of  labor,  prayers,  and  tears, 
And,  joyful,  sing  the  precious  root. 
Strong  with  its  hundred  years. 

In  cold  and  heat,  in  calm  and  storm, 
The  thickening  fibres  spread,  — 

Modelled  in  heaven,  its  life  and  form 
With  heavenly  juices  fed. 

And  far  o'er  all  these  sunny  slopes. 
The  outstretched  boughs  expand ; 

True  to  the  fathers'  early  hopes, 
It  shades  and  fills  the  land. 

Honored  and  loved,  where  none  molests,  - 

His  labor  finished  well,  — 
The  noble  planter  calmly  rests. 

Where  first  the  fruitage  fell. 

And  still  the  healing  branches  toss. 

And  still  its  head  it  rears, 
Feels  no  decay,  and  shows  no  loss. 

Strong  with  its  hundred  years. 

Come  from  the  weary  toil  and  strife. 

And  sit  beneath  the  shade  ; 
And  hail  it,  like  the  tree  of  life, 

Whose  leaf  shall  never  fade. 

1  For  the  First  Baptist  Church,  Haverhill,  Mass.,  1865. 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  269 


MISSIONARY    HYMNS    AND    ODES. 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  HEATHEN. 

C"^  OD  of  the  ocean  and  the  shore, 
J     Thy  law  we  love,  Thy  name  adore  ! 
Let  the  abundance  of  the  sea, 
Be,  Lord,  converted  unto  Thee  ! 

Through  every  ship  that  cleaves  the  wave, 
Proclaim  Thy  love.  Thy  power  to  save  ; 
From  tropic  seas  to  either  pole. 
Loudly  let  Heaven's  sweet  anthem  roll ! 

Speak,  Lord,  and  o'er  the  stormy  flood. 
Thy  name  shall  swell,  Thy  peace  shall  brood. 
Thy  praise  shall  ring  from  every  voice. 
And  distant  climes  in  Thee  rejoice ! 

Then  land  and  sea,  then  flood  and  shore. 
Through  man  redeemed,  shall  bless  Thy  power ; 
And  earth  and  sea  and  heaven  shall  own 
Salvation's  glorious  triumph  won  ! 


270  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


HEEALDS   OF   SALVATION. 

GO,  heralds  of  Salvation,  forth  ; 
Go,  in  your  heavenly  Master's  name, 
From  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north. 
The  glorious  Gospel,  wide  proclaim  ! 

Go,  bid  the  thirsty  desert  bloom ; 

Go,  bid  the  weary  spirit  rest ; 
Go,  seek  the  wanderers  through  the  gloom, 

And  guide  them  to  the  Saviour's  breast ! 

Go  forth,  to  sow  the  living  seed  ; 

Seek  not  earth's  praise,  nor  dread  its  frown ; 
Nor  labors  fear,  nor  trials  heed ; 

Win  jewels  for  Immanuel's  crown  ! 

Lo  !  I  am  with  you,  saith  the  Lord ; 

My  grace  your  spirit  shall  sustain  ; 
Strong  is  My  arm,  and  sure  My  word ; 

My  servants  shall  not  toil  in  vain. 

Go  forth  in  hope ;  My  burden  take, 

Till  God's  great  reaping-day  shall  come ; 

Then,  they  who  sowed  in  tears  shall  wake, 
And  hail  the  joyful  harvest  home ! 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  271 


THE  MISSIONARY  ANGEL. 

ONWARD  speed  thy  conquering  flight, 
Angel,  onward  speed ! 
Cast  abroad  thy  radiant  light. 

Bid  the  shades  recede  ; 
Tread  the  idols  in  the  dust ; 

Heathen  fanes  destroy ; 
Spread  the  Gospel's  holy  trust,  — 
Spread  the  Gospel's  joy  ! 

Onward  speed  thy  conquering  flight; 

Angel,  onward  haste  ! 
Quickly  on  each  mountain's  height 

Be  thy  standard  placed ; 
Let  thy  blissful  tidings  float 

Far  o'er  vale  and  hill, 
Till  the  sweetly  echoing  note 

Every  bosom  thrill ! 

Onward  speed  thy  conquering  flight, 

Angel,  onward  fly  ! 
Long  has  been  the  reign  of  night. 

Bring  the  morning  nigh  ; 
'T  is  to  thee  the  heathen  lift 

Their  imploring  wail ; 
Bear  them  Heaven's  holy  gift. 

Ere  their  courage  fail ! 

Onward  speed  thy  conquering  flight, 
Angel,  onward  speed  ! 


272  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Morning  bursts  upon  our  sight,  — 
'T  is  the  time  decreed. 

Jesus  now  His  kingdom  takes,  — 
Thrones  and  empires  fall ; 

And  the  joyous  song  awakes, 
"  God  is  all  in  all ! " 


o>*Jo 


GOD   BE   WITH   THEE. 

GO  with  Thy  servant,  mighty  Lord  ! 
Attend  his  work  with  power  divine ; 
Gird  him  with  strength  to  preach  Thy  word, 
And  round  him  make  Thy  glory  shine ! 

Before  his  face  prepare  the  way, 
And  put  the  idol  gods  to  shame  ; 

Touch  with  Thy  fire  the  lips  of  clay. 
And  magnify  Thy  saving  name ! 

Bid,  where  he  treads,  the  desert  bloom  ; 

Guide  with  Thy  hand  his  unknown  way ; 
Scatter  the  clouds  of  grief  and  gloom, 

And  change  the  darkness  into  day ! 

Triumphant  Prince,  gird  on  Thy  sword  ; 

Tread  all  the  powers  of  darkness  down ; 
Almighty,  re-ascended  Lord, 

Assert  Thy  power,  and  wear  Thy  crown ! 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  273 


CHRIST'S  DISCIPLES   DIVIDE  THE   EIELD.i 

Before  each  of  the  first  three  verses,  the  following  recitative  is 
rendered. 

"  And  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  saying,  '  Wliom  shall  I  send, 
and  who  will  go  for  us  ?  ' " 

Response  by  Some  Destined  to  Foreign  Lands. 

FROM  dear  New  England's  happy  shore, 
Where  all  our  kindred  dwell, 
We  hasten,  to  return  no  more,  — 
Our  native  land,  farewell ! 

Response  hy  Others  Destined  to  Domestic  Missions. 

And  we,  where  seldom  on  the  ear 

Salvation's  tidings  swell, 
Go  forth,  to  dry  the  mourner's  tear,  — 

Our  pleasant  home,  farewell ! 

Response  hy  Others  Destined  to  Home-Service. 

Where  all  our  earthly  friendships  blend, 

Bound  by  affection's  spell, 
We,  in  God's  work,  our  lives  will  spend,  — 

Brothers,  a  short  farewell ! 

All,  in  Unison. 

From  these  dear  cherished  scenes  we  go, 

Tlie  home  of  praise  and  prayer, 
To  meet  earth's  gladness,  or  earth's  woe, 

For  Christ,  to  do  and  bear. 

^  Anniversary,  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  September,  1832. 

18 


274  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Farewell,  beloved,  who  shared  our  joy, 
In  whose  fond  hearts  we  dwell ; 

A  noble  work  shall  now  employ 
All  that  we  are  —  farewell. 

Brethren,  we  press  the  parting  hand, 
Our  songs  of  parting  tell ; 

Then,  till  we  reach  Heaven's  holy  land, 
A  sweet,  but  brief,  farewell ! 


o>*:o 


THE  MISSIONAKY'S   FAEEWELL. 

YES,  my  native  land,  I  love  thee  ; 
All  thy  scenes,  I  love  them  well ; 
Friends,  connections,  happy  country, 
Can  I  bid  you  all  farewell  ? 

Can  I  leave  you. 
Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell  ? 

Home,  thy  joys  are  passing  lovely, 
Joys  no  stranger  heart  can  tell ; 

Happy  home,  indeed  I  love  thee, 
Can  I,  can  I  say,  "  Farewell "  ? 

Can  I  leave  thse. 
Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell  ? 

Scenes  of  sacred  peace  and  pleasure, 
Holy  days,  and  Sabbath  bell, 

Eichest,  brightest,  sweetest  treasure, 
Can  I  say  a  last  farewell  ? 

Can  I  leave  you, 
Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell  ? 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  275 

Yes,  I  hasten  from  you  gladly, — 
From  the  scenes  I  loved  so  well ; 

Far  away,  ye  billows,  bear  me. 
Lovely,  native  land,  farewell  j 

Pleased  I  leave  thee, 
Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell. 

In  the  deserts  let  me  labor ; 

On  the  mountains  let  me  tell 
How  He  died  —  the  blessed  Saviour  — 

To  redeem  a  world  from  hell ; 
Let  me  hasten, 

Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell. 

Bear  me  on,  thou  restless  ocean  ; 

Let  the  winds  my  canvas  swell  j 
Heaves  my  heart  with  warm  emotion, 

While  I  go  far  hence  to  dwell. 
Glad,  I  bid  thee, 

Native  land,  farewell !  farewell ! 


LIGHT   O'ER   THE   HILLS. 

MISSIONARY  HYMN. 

LIGHT  o'er  the  hills  !    Light  o'er  the  hills 
The  promised  morning  wakes ; 
The  day  foretold  by  seers  of  old 
In  wondrous  glory  breaks. 

They  come  !     The  Saviour's  voice  they  hear, 

And,  glad,  His  call  oliey. 
Chosen  in  Christ,  His  name  to  wear, 

A  nation  in  a  day. 


276  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Eide  on !  ride  on,  victorious  Prince  ! 

Ride  on,  triumphant  King  ! 
From  land  and  sea,  from  earth  and  heaven, 

Thy  myriad  trophies  bring. 

So,  gather  all  the  tribes  of  earth, 

To  hear  and  heed  Thy  call, 
Till  man,  submissive,  at  Thy  feet. 

Shall  crown  Thee,  Lord  of  all ! 


THY  KINGDOM  COME,  IMMOETAL  KING ! 

MISSIONARY  HYMN. 

THY  kingdom  come,  immortal  King ! 
Thy  right  maintain.  Thy  power  display  ; 
Earth's  myriads  to  Thy  footstool  bring  ; 
Make  all  the  nations  own  Thy  sway ! 

Come,  with  the  eagle's  daring  flight, 
Conquer  the  hosts  of  death  and  sin  ; 

Flood  the  whole  globe  with  holy  light, 
0  kingdom  of  our  God,  come  in  ! 

Come  as  the  swelling  tides  that  break 
In  mighty  waves  on  every  strand ; 

Kingdom  of  God,  in  triumph  wake 
O'er  every  sea,  o'er  every  land  ! 

We  wait  Thy  breath,  immortal  Dove  ! 

Speak  to  earth's  woes  Thy  healing  word ; 
Come,  wafted  on  the  wings  of  love. 

Make  all  the  nations  own  Thee,  Lord  ! 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  277 

Thy  kingdom  come  !  —  rise,  Saviour,  rise  ! 

Assume  Thy  power,  ascend  Thy  throne, 
Till  universal  Nature  cries, 

"  Strike  the  glad  hour,  —  the  work  is  done  ! " 


oj*:o 


PRINCE   OF   PEACE,   OH,   COME! 

EARTH  waits  Thy  advent,  Prince  of  Peace, 
Oh,  come,  with  power  divine ! 
O'er  every  sea,  o'er  every  land. 
Bid  the  blest  Gospel  shine  ' 

Like  myriad  drops  of  morning  dew  — 

Each  drop,  a  sparkling  gem  — 
Transfuse  with  light  unnumbered  souls, 

To  grace  Thy  diadem. 

Before  Thy  throne,  triumphant  Lord, 

Let  willing  captives  bend, 
And  men  of  every  name  and  tongue, 

Their  hallelujahs  blend. 

Then  shall  the  Great  High  Priest,  this  globe, 

A  fragrant  censer,  swing, 
And  praise,  from  every  smoking  pore, 

Like  incense  sweet  shall  spring. 

From  hill  to  echoing  hill,  the  shout 

Of  victory  shall  resound,  — 
While  hosts  to  answering  hosts  proclaim 

The  Lord,  with  glory  crowned. 


278  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


TO  A  DEPAETING  MISSIONARY. 

0.  s.  c. 

THE  ship  floats  bravely  on  the  sea. 
The  perfumed  breezes  play, 
And  many  a  fervent  prayer  is  breathed 
To  speed  her  on  her  way. 

She  bears  the  merchant's  golden  wealth 

To  Asia's  burning  shore  ; 
She  bears  a  dearer  burden  far, 

That  comes  to  us  no  more. 

She  bears  the  friends  we  long  have  loved. 
The  friends  we  long  have  known  ; 

"  Farewell,"  —  perhaps  no  more  to  meet. 
Till  life's  bright  hours  have  flown. 

Yet,  ye  will  find,  beyond  the  waves, 
Some  noble  Christian  bands,  — 

Heroes,  with  pure  and  loving  hearts, 
And  wise  and  faithful  hands. 

We  meet  again,  —  no  farewell  tear, 

In  heaven,  is  ever  shed ; 
We  meet  again,  —  no  farewell  prayer, 

In  heaven,  is  ever  said. 

We  meet  where  all  is  joy  and  peace. 
Where  throbs  no  thrill  of  pain  ; 

We  meet  in  heaven,  where  all  is  bliss, 
And  never  part  again. 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  279 


WELCOME  TO  A  EETUENING  MISSIONAEY. 

ScNG  at  the  return  of  Mrs.  Harriet  Carpenter  from  her  mission-field 
in  Japan. 

WHEN  the  scarred  hero  from  the  field 
Of  mortal  strife  retires  to  rest, 
Glad  greetings  from  a  grateful  throng, 

"With  heart  and  voice,  pronounce  him  blest. 


So  thee,  0  Christian  warrior,  now 

Our  souls  with  a  high  welcome  greet ; 

And  thou  shalt  all  thy  trophies  lay, 
Tribute  of  love,  at  Jesus's  feet. 

Welcome  the  Christian  heart,  which  throbs 
With  loving  purpose,  strong  and  brave, 

Burning  to  see  the  Lord  enthroned. 
The  strayed  to  seek,  the  lost  to  save. 

Triumphant  Prince,  Thy  power  display, 
Till  all  mankind  shall  heed  Thy  call. 

And  earth,  redeemed,  with  glad  accord, 
Shall  crown  Thee,  King  and  Lord  of  all. 

September,  1893. 


280  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


THE   KING   OF   GLOEY. 

■Written  for  Mrs.  M.  B.  Ingalls,  of  Thongze,  Burmah,  and  sung  at 
her  "  Burmah  Curio  Exposition,"  held  in  Boston. 

HASTE  to  the  conquest  of  the  world, 
0  King  with  glory  crowned  ! 
Gather  Thy  trophies  far  and  wide, 
Wherever  man  is  found, 

Eide  in  swift  triumph  o'er  the  earth ; 

Lift  up  Thy  sceptred  hand ; 
Thine  is  the  kingdom.  Thine  the  right,  — 

Eide  forth,  o'er  sea  and  land. 

Then  round  the  conquered  world  Thy  praise 

In  waves  on  waves  shall  ring. 
And  shore  to  shore,  and  sea  to  sea, 

In  answering  chorus  sing. 

Adoring  thousands  at  Thy  feet, 

In  faith  and  love,  shall  fall ; 
And  countless  souls,  redeemed  from  sin, 

Shall  call  Thee  Lord  of  all. 

Then  he  that  sowed  in  patient  hope, 

Through  all  the  weary  years, 
Shall  find,  at  last,  abundant  sheaves, 

And  joy,  for  toil  and  tears. 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  281 


THE   LONE   STAR 

At  the  Anniversary  of  the  Missionary  Union  in  Albany,  New  York, 
in  1868,  it  was  proposed  by  some  to  abandon  what  was  called  the  "  Lone 
Star  "  mission  in  Nellore,  India.  Dr.  Smith,  then  the  guest  of  Judge 
Harris,  being  asked  his  opinion,  in  the  evening,  quietly  replied,  "  You 
have  it  here,"  handing  him  the  following  verses.  The  poem  was  read 
to  the  audience  the  next  morning,  without  consulting  the  author,  who 
happened  not  to  be  present.  Some  wept,  some  sobl)ed ;  and  the 
mission  was  saved.  That  mission,  soon  afterwani.s  developed  into  the 
largest  band  of  communicants,  under  one  cliargo,  in  the  world.  The 
poem  entitled  Faith's  Victory  records  tlie  fulfilmeut  of  tlie  prophetic 
words  of  the  "  Lone  Star  "  poem.  At  a  subsequent  visit  of  the  poet 
and  his  wife  to  that  mission  they  were  hailed  witli  a  joyous  welcome. 
Each  planted  a  palm-tree  still  respectively  called  by  the  native  Chris- 
tians, "  Dr.  Smith  "  and  "  Mrs.  Smith." 

SHINE  on,  "  Lone  Star ! "   Thy  radiance  bright 
Shall  spread  o'er  all  the  ea.stern  sky ; 
Morn  breaks  apace  from  gloom  and  night,  — 
Shine  on,  and  bless  the  pilgrim's  eye. 

Shine  on,  "  Lone  Star ! "     I  would  not  dim 
The  light  that  gleams  with  dubious  ray  ; 

The  lonely  star  of  Bethlehem 

Led  on  a  bright  and  glorious  day. 

Shine  on,  "  Lone  Star  ! "    In  grief  and  tears, 

And  sad  reverses,  oft  baptized  ; 
Shine  on  amid  thy  sister  spheres  : 

Lone  stars  in  heaven  are  not  despised. 

Shine  on,  "  Lone  Star  ! "     Who  lifts  his  hand 

To  dash  to  earth  so  bright  a  gem, 
A  new  lost  "Pleiad"  from  the  l)and 

That  sparkles  in  night's  diadem  ? 


282  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Shine  on,  "  Lone  Star ! "    The  day  draws  near 
When  none  shall  shine  more  fair  than  thou : 

Thou,  born  and  nursed  in  doubt  and  fear, 
Wilt  glitter  on  Immanuel's  brow. 


Shine  on,  "  Lone  Star,"  till  earth,  redeemed, 

In  dust  shall  bid  its  idols  fall. 
And  thousands,  where  thy  radiance  beamed, 

Shall  crown  the  Saviour  Lord  of  all. 


oj»<o« 


FAITH'S   TEIUMPH. 

"\  T  7EAIIY  and  wan,  his  furrows  long, 

^  '       The  patient  ploughman  trod. 
Turning,  with  endless  care  and  pains. 

The  sluggish,  barren  sod  ; 
And  morning  came,  and  daylight  went, 

And  strength  and  hope  were  gone, 
The  tearful  eyes  grew  dim,  —  and  still 

The  wearying  toil  went  on. 

Smitten  beneath  the  burning  sun, 

The  fainting  workman  cries, 
"  Master,  how  long  this  iron  earth  ? 

How  long  these  brazen  skies  ?  " 
"  Ploughman,  toil  on  in  loving  trust ; 

Yield  thee  to  My  sweet  will. 
Faith  wins  its  victories  ;  weary  soul, 

Believe,  and  labor  still." 


MISSIONARY  HYMNS  AND  ODES.  283 

And  tears  and  love  and  faith  prepared 

The  deeply  furrowed  field, 
To  hide  and  keep  the  precious  grain,  — 

Seed  of  a  bounteous  yield ; 
And  dew  and  rain  and  sunny  skies 

Enriched  each  seed  that  fell, 
Lost  to  the  eye  of  man,  but  God 

Knew  how  to  guard  it  well. 

Oh,  long  and  sad  the  sower's  care, 

As  seasons  went  and  came  ! 
And  God  forgot  the  toiler's  lot, 

And  put  his  hope  to  shame. 
"  Vain  work,"  a  timid  faith  proclaimed ; 

"  Poor  toilers,  faint  and  few  ! 
Bury  and  hide  your  useless  seed ; 

Bury  the  sowers,  too." 

But  God's  great  mystery  of  grace 

Its  mighty  pathway  holds, 
And,  like  the  budding  rose  of  June, 

In  beauteous  life  unfolds. 
The  bursting  germ,  the  verdant  leaf. 

Break  forth  from  hidden  graves  ; 
And  far  o'er  all  the  swelling  hills, 

The  joyful  harvest  waves. 

Whence  are  these  myriad  forms  that  bow 

Before  Messiah's  throne  ? 
Whence  the  grand  chorus  that  uplifts 

Thy  name,  0  Christ,  alone  ? 
Whence  are  the  clustering  clouds  that  seek 

The  same  celestial  goal  ? 
And  one  new  song  holds  every  lip, 

One  pulse-beat,  every  soul. 


284  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

These  are  the  ploughman's  garnered  wealth, 

Born  of  his  toil  and  pain  ; 
These  are  the  sower's  faith  and  tears, 

Transformed  to  golden  grain. 
God  watched  the  toilers  at  their  work ; 

And,  when  His  wisdom  willed, 
The  pledge  His  loving  heart  had  made, 

His  loving  hand  fulfilled. 

Then  hail,  Lone  Star  !  of  all  the  wreath. 

Thou  art  the  brighest  gem. 
As  once,  o'er  fair  Judea's  plains. 

The  Star  of  Bethlehem. 
Shine  on !  We  learn  to  pray  and  wait, 

To  toil  and  trust,  through  thee,  — 
A  star  of  triumph  on  Christ's  brow, 

And  faith's  high  victory. 


c>>*ic 


THE   WORD   OF   GOD   GLORIFIED. 

O  BLESSED  word  of  God,  thy  living  ray 
Turns  shade  to  sunshine,  light  to  heavenly  day ; 
Dispels  earth's  sorrow,  calms  the  troubled  breast. 
And  guides  the  pilgrim  to  the  endless  rest ; 
Explains  life's  mystery,  and  shines  through  woe, 
As  threatening  clouds  with  sunset  radiance  glow ; 
Breaks  with  its  joy  earth's  wintry  gloom  and  night, 
And  turns  its  sable  robes  to  bridal  white. 
Go  forth,  great  word  of  God,  thy  force  display ; 
Convert  the  world,  —  a  nation  m  a  day. 
Teach  China's  millions,  saved,  on  God  to  call, 
And  crown  the  living  Saviour,  Lord  of  all. 


MISSIONARY'  HYMNS  AND   ODES.  285 

Light  from  God's  truth  gihls  all  tliy  isles,  Japan, 

Light,  born  iu  heaven,  Ua-  universal  man ; 

And  Hashing  oars  on  all  the  crystal  flood 

Gleam  with  the  radiance  of  the  word  of  God. 

liise  with  thy  light,  and  pour  thy  healing  beam 

On  all  the  hills,  by  every  winding  stream, 

Where  the  proud  Burmans  to  their  idols  bow, 

Hearing,  with  hardened  neck,  and  lofty  brow, 

When  men  of  lioly  heart  and  loving  speech, 

Man's  only  hope,  in  earnest  accents,  preach ; 

In  India's  myriad  tongues  let  God's  blest  words 

Proclaim  the  glory  of  the  Lord  of  lords ; 

And  all  its  tribes,  in  heaven's  new  song,  proclaim 

The  love  and  power  of  Christ's  own  saving  name. 

In  Afric's  central  heart  new  triumphs  win ; 

And  bid  the  Congo,  found  at  last,  begin 

To  seek  new  hope ;  to  learn,  on  bended  knee. 

New  lore  of  truth,  and  Heaven's  blest  mystery. 

While  haughty  Moslem  sees  the  crescent  pale 

Before  the  cross,  whose  empire  ne'er  shall  fail, 

But  make  its  broad  domains  through  love  extend. 

One  reign  o'er  all  the  earth,  one  kingdom  without  end. 


o:«?c 


THE   LIVING   BEEAD. 

OTHOU  whose  voice  the  tempest  stilled. 
And  made  the  wild  waves  calm. 
Whose  hand,  with  gentle  touch,  had  power 
To  heal,  like  Gilead's  balm,  — 

Speak  to  the  storm-tossed  sons  of  earth, 
And  draw  their  hearts  to  Thee  ; 

And  let  Thy  healing  touch  redeem 
The  wanderers  of  the  sea. 


286  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Eenew  Thy  miracle  of  love,  — 
Thyself,  "  The  living  Bread  ; " 

Arise  and  let  the  fainting  throngs, 
On  ship  and  shore,  be  fed. 

Eide  forth  in  glory,  —  land  and  wave 

Thy  mandate  shall  obey, 
And  all  the  peopled  earth,  redeemed, 

Shall  own  Thy  rightful  sway. 


-«O>»{0 


JEHOVAH   EEIGNS. 

SWIFTLY  the  years  roll  on  ;  so  swiftly  comes 
The  day  when  every  nation  unto  God 
Shall  swell  Salvation's  song.     From  the  far  South 
The  scented  breezes  bring  a  welcome  voice 
Upon  their  wings,  —  the  voice  of  many  tongues, 
Asking  of  Christ  and  heaven.     The  western  fields, 
Far  stretching  towards  the  setting  sun,  send  back. 
From  all  the  busy  hum  of  gathering  tribes. 
The  call  for  men  of  God.     The  frozen  North, 
With  her  sparse  nations,  and  the  swarming  East, 
Have  heard  that  Christ  for  man  was  lifted  up. 
The  story,  simply  told  on  some  stray  leaf. 
That  came,  they  know  not  whence,  wakens  a  thrill 
Of  deep  responsive  feeling.     There 's  a  chord 
That  answers  in  the  human  breast  to  all 
The  word  of  God  declares.     As  for  the  light 
The  eye  is  formed,  and  for  the  eye  the  light,  — 
So  for  the  heart  of  man  the  words  of  life ; 
And  for  those  words  the  human  heart  was  made. 


MISSIOXARY  HYMNS  AND   ODES.  287 

They  send  their  soothmg  cry  o'er  ocean's  waste ; 
The  voice  is  heard  above  the  roaring  storm 
Of  earth's  wild  bustle.     Many  a  stolid  ear 
Erects  itself  to  hear  ;  anil  many  a  heart 
Cries  in  its  fervor,  —  "1  will  go  and  tell 
The  dark  idolater  the  way  to  God." 

O  ye  of  little  faitli,  't  is  l)ut  a  day, 
And  sin  will  vanish  !     All  earth's  withering  woes 
Will  pass  away  ;  the  Gospel's  blessed  words, 
Borne  by  its  ministers  to  every  land. 
Will  heal  them  all.     God  will  be  glorified 
In  human  blessedness  ;  and,  morn  and  eve. 
The  ransomed  tribes  shall  send  up  to  the  throne, 
From  all  earth's  surface,  hallelujahs,  sweet, 
And  loud  as  many  waters.     Heaven  itself 
Will  seem  descended ;  earth  will  seem  a  heaven. 

Come,  0  Thou  Lamb  of  God,  hasten  Thy  work ; 
Cut  short  the  reign  of  sin ;  and  if  not  here, 
Oh,  soon  from  our  bright  thrones  above  the  sky, 
Let  us  but  catch  the  strain  from  all  who  dwell 
Upon  the  earth  —  JEHOVAH  REIGNS ! 


288  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

"AEOUSE   YE,    0   SEEVANTS   OF   GOD!" 

[Music  :  "  TIlc  Cross  and  Victory."] 

Weitten  for  the  hymn,  ami  dedicated  to  Societies  of  Christian 
Endeavor. 

AEOUSE  ye,  arouse  ye,  0  servants  of  God ! 
His  right  arm,  your  strength,  and  your  leader, 
His  rod. 
Oh,  haste  from  the  north,  from  the  south,  to  His  call ; 
His  cause  shall  prevail,  —  He  shall  reign  over  all ! 
Farewell  to  your  dreaming ;  no  longer  delay  ; 
Go  tell  the  glad  tidings !  God's  hand  points  the  way. 
Go  forward !  go  forward  !  to  conquer  or  die ; 
God  will  make  sure  the  victory. 

Chorus. 
Haste  and  bear  the  banner  forth, 
East  and  west,  and  south  and  north  ; 
Haste  to  lift  the  cross  on  high, 

The  pledge  of  victory. 
Haste  and  bear  the  banner  forth, 
East  and  west,  and  south  and  north  ; 
Haste  to  lift  the  cross  on  high. 

The  pledge  of  victory,  — 

The  cross,  and  victory  ! 

The  morning  has  broken,  the  noonday  is  near ; 
Go  forward  with  courage,  nor  doubt  ye,  nor  fear. 
Eely  on  His  promise.  His  oath,  and  His  word ; 
His  Spirit  your  helper,  His  Gospel,  your  sword. 
The  Prince  of  Salvation  is  winning  His  way,  — 
Bring  crowns  for  His  brow,  —  joy,  joy,  for  the  day  ! 
Go  forward  !  go  forward,  to  conquer  or  die  ; 
God  will  make  sure  the  victory. 
Chorus. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  289 


FROM   ExiRTII   TO   HEAYE:Nr. 


COME   UNTO   ME. 

THOU  whose  heart  with  pain  is  broken, 
Long  with  grief  and  woe  oppressed, 
Hear  what  God,  the  Lord,  hath  spoken, 
Weary  wanderer  after  rest. 

Come  to  Me,  thy  sins  forsaking, 
God's  great  mercy  gladly  taking : 
With  the  world  and  folly  part. 
Give  Me,  give  Me  now,  tliy  heart. 

Come  to  ;Me,  the  meek  and  lowly ; 

Come,  My  easy  burden  bear  ; 
Be  thou  one  among  the  holy  ; 
Cast  away  thy  dull  despair  ; 

I  will  make  thy  burdens  lighter ; 
I  will  make  thy  pleasures  brighter ; 
Eestless  as  the  troubled  sea. 
Come,  forsaking  all  for  Me. 

Who  that  ever  sought  My  favor, 

Though  My  grace  was  long  alnised, 
Who  that  yielded  to  the  Saviour, 
Asked  My  love  and  was  refused  ? 
At  the  throne  of  mercy  bending, 
On  the  arm  of  God  depending, 
Come  to  ^le,  from  lal)or  cease  ; 
And  in  Me  thou  shalt  have  peace. 

19 


290  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


0  LORD,   REMEMBER  ME! 

WITH  crowds  around  upbraiding, 
And  curses  on  the  blast, 
While  things  of  earth  were  fading, 

And  life  was  ebbing  fast,  — 
The  malefactor,  praying. 

To  Christ  upon  the  tree. 
Breathed  out  his  spirit,  saying, 
"  0  Lord,  remember  me  ! " 

The  Saviour  looked  in  meekness, 

Though  death  was  drawing  nigh ; 
He  heeded  not  His  weakness. 

When  came  the  contrite  sigh. 
He  said,  while  thoughts  of  pity 

Beamed  from  His  dying  eyes : 
"  To-day  thou  shalt  be  with  Me, 

In  yonder  paradise." 

If  scenes  of  joy  and  gladness. 

In  life  my  lot  should  be, 
Or  should  my  days  bring  sadness, 

0  Lord,  remember  me  ! 
Receive  my  parting  spirit. 

Where  joys  unfading  rise, 
And  take  me  to  inherit 

A  place  in  paradise. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  291 


THE  ALL-SUFFICIENT   REFUGE. 

OlIOCK  of  Ages  !  when  the  storm 
Of  trial  drives  across  my  path, 
And  vainly  struggles  human  power 

To  stand  against  its  sweeping  wrath, 
Then  shield  me  by  Thy  towering  head, 
Then  in  Thy  clefts,  0,  let  me  hide,  — 
No  ill  can  reach  the  soul  that  leans, 
Trusting,  on  Christ  the  Crucified. 

0  Rock  of  Ages  !  when  my  tears 

In  streams  of  contrite  anguish  flow, 
And,  penitent,  my  lips  confess 

How  just  the  hand  that  strikes  the  blow, 
Then  to  Thy  massive,  shelving  cliffs. 

Then  to  Thy  shadow  let  me  flee ; 
The  dying  Christ  sustained  the  shock. 

And,  Lord,  the  soul  is  safe  in  Thee. 

0  Rock  of  Ages  !  when  my  heart. 

Struck  by  some  sore  bereavement,  bleeds. 
And  earthly  props  and  comforters 

Have  proved  themselves  but  broken  reeds, 
Then  to  Thy  shelter  let  me  press, 

Wliich  stands  from  age  to  age  the  same ; 
Christ  changes  not,  —  the  stricken  soul 

Finds  comfort  in  His  healing  name. 

0  Rock  of  Ages !  if  the  cross 

Of  shame  for  Christ's  dear  name  I  bear. 
Or  suffer  loss,  because  I  choose 

His  seal  upon  my  brow  to  wear. 


292  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Then,  calm  and  fearless,  let  my  soul, 
Safe  in  Thy  great  protection,  rest ; 

Christ  is  a  refuge,  —  troubled  hearts 
rind  shelter  in  the  Saviour's  breast. 


0  Eock  of  Ages  !  when  in  death 

My  strength  grows  weak,  my  spirits  fail, 
And  earthly  helpers  leave  my  feet 

To  tread  alone  the  solemn  vale. 
Then  from  each  cliff  and  slope  and  crag. 

Let  light,  from  heaven  reflected,  shine ; 
Christ  is  earth's  sun,  and  Christ  alone 

Can  gild  the  tomb  with  rays  divine. 


As  clings  the  seaman,  when  his  bark 

Is  shattered  by  the  raging  wave. 
To  fragments  of  the  broken  wreck, 

And  vainly  hopes  his  life  to  save,  — 
So,  in  all  times  of  risk  or  need, 

My  spirit  to  Thy  shade  shall  flee  ; 
Secure,  in  life  or  death,  to  find 

O  Eock  of  Ages !  all  in  Thee. 


o>jt;o« 


THE   EVEELASTING   SHELTER 

NO  sorrow,  like  a  sweeping  storm, 
Around  the  soul  fierce  conflict  wages, 
But  Christ  has  power  its  force  to  quell,  — 
No  storm  can  move  the  Eock  of  Ages. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  293 

0  yearning  thirst  of  human  hearts  ! 

Thirst  wliich  no  earthly  good  assuages,  — 
Seek  water  from  the  Smitten  Rock ; 

That  Rock  is  Christ,  —  the  Rock  of  Ages. 

0  hearts  and  hands  consumed  by  toil, 

Confined  to  earth,  as  birds  in  cages  ! 
Rest  for  the  weary  —  endless  rest  — 

Lies  in  Thy  shelter,  Rock  of  Ages. 

Search  all  the  wisdom  earth  can  boast ; 

Bring  all  the  light  from  saints  and  sages, — 
Vain  is  the  quest  for  peace  and  rest, 

Till  sought  within  the  Rock  of  Ages. 

What  thought,  what  hope,  what  love,  what  joy, 
The  heart  —  the  curious  heart  —  engages ; 

Joy,  love,  and  hope  surpassing  thought,  — 
All  centre  in  the  Rock  of  Ages. 


There  is  a  land  serene  and  fair. 

Where  falls  no  blight,  no  passion  rages. 
Sheltered  and  safe  from  grief  and  sin, 

O'ershadowed  by  the  Rock  of  Ages. 

Grateful,  our  heavenward  path  we  tread. 
Mount  by  successive  steps  and  stages, 

And  wait  secure  the  day  of  God,  — 
Hid  in  Thy  clefts,  0  Rock  of  Ages ! 


294  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


LIFE'S   EAPID  RIVER. 

AS  flows  the  rapid  river, 
With  channel  broad  and  free, 
Its  waters  rippling  ever, 

And  rushing  to  the  sea,  — 
So  swift  our  days  are  ending, 

Short  is  each  joy  and  grief,  — 
Summer  with  winter  blending, 
The  longest  life,  how  brief. 

As  moons  are  ever  waning. 

As  hastes  the  sun  away, 
As  stormy  winds,  complaining, 

Bring  on  the  wintry  day,  — 
So  fast  the  night  comes  o'er  us, 

The  darkness  of  the  grave,  — 
Death  ever  just  before  us, 

God  takes  the  life  He  gave. 

Be  then  thy  choicest  treasure 

Laid  up  in  worlds  above ; 
Be  thine  the  highest  pleasure, 

Thy  God,  to  serve  and  love ; 
And  use,  with  wise  endeavor. 

The  talent  Heaven  has  lent. 
Lest  thou  lament  forever, 

A  precious  life,  misspent. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  UEAVEN.  295 


AS  SUMMER  CLOUDS. 

AS  summer  clouds  in  richness  sleeping, 
Are  scattered  by  the  winds  away ; 
As  flowers,  awhile  their  beauty  keeping, 
Are  withered  at  the  close  of  day,  — 
So  life  is  ever,  ever  flying, 
And  bringing  on  the  hour  of  dying ; 
The  cloud  departs  ;  the  blossom  fades ; 
And  death  draws  on  its  silent  shades. 

How  brief  the  rainbow's  peaceful  brightness ! 

Its  glowing  colors  melt  away  ; 
How  vain  the  busy  insect's  lightness ! 
Its  life  is  sweet,  but  will  not  stay. 

Earth's  dearest  joys  are  tinged  by  sorrow ; 
The  soul  may  wade  in  grief  to-morrow. 
The  rainbow  melts ;  the  insect  dies,  — 
But  man  to  endless  life  may  rise. 

The  noonday  hours  are  bright,  but  fleeting  ; 

The  time  for  labor  soon  is  gone ; 
The  gentle  twilight,  fast  retreating, 
Forsakes  the  world,  and  day  is  done. 
So  fast  the  day  of  life  is  spending  ; 
So  fast  the  time  of  duty,  ending ; 
The  day  retires,  the  twilight  flies  ; 
O  man,  secure  life's  noblest  prize. 


296  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


HOW    BLEST    AKE    THEY,  IN    CHRIST,  WHO 

DIE! 

"  Peace  was  the  last  word  of  little  Jane,  and  peace  seemed  to  be 
inscribed  on  the  farewell  scene  at  the  grave  where  they  laid  her  down 
to  rest." 

HOW  blest  are  they,  in  Christ,  who  die. 
While  guardian  angels  linger  nigh ! 
The  dreary  days  of  pain  are  o'er ; 

And  life  ebbs  out. 
As  billows  die  on  the  shore. 

Death  wears  no  terror  on  its  brow  ; 
It  comes  like  summer  airs  that  blow 

Across  the  earth  at  evening  hour, 
Or  moonlight  beams. 

That  glide  along  the  peaceful  bower. 

While  angel-bands  the  requiem  sing, 
The  joyful  soul  is  on  the  wing. 

The  captive  free ;  life's  labor  done,  — 
Clad  in  white  robes, 

The  saint  appears  before  the  throne. 

Peace  reigns  beside  the  silent  bed,  — 
Peace,  where  the  happy  soul  has  fled ; 

The  Lord  hath  taken  what  He  gave. 
The  soul  hath  rest ; 

And  peace  is  written  on  the  grave. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  297 


TO   DIE   IS   GAIN. 

DcKiNG  a  severe  illness  in  July,  1892,  Dr.  Smith  wrote  the  follow- 
in{^  lines  upon  small  scraps  of  paper,  as  he  liad  strength.  They  were 
preserved  and  printed  by  his  son,  very  tender  memories  attaching  to 
the  family  experiences  of  that  summer.  Believing  that  they  will  bear 
spiritual  comfort  to  many  in  otlier  households,  the  compiler  of  this 
volume  has  the  assent  of  their  author  to  this  present  use. 

TO  feel  the  mild,  delicious  clime, 
Where  summer  never  fades  ; 
To  breathe  the  glorious  atmosphere, 
Wliich  sickness  ne'er  invades  ; 

To  reach  at  last  that  happy  land, 

Where  tears  are  never  known  ; 
To  see  the  wondrous  face  of  Him 

Who  sits  upon  the  throne  ; 

All  the  great  souls  of  all  the  years, 
In  Heaven's  high  courts  to  meet ; 

All  kindred  spirits,  glorified. 
To  join,  in  converse  sweet ; 

To  burst  the  chrysalis,  and  soar 

On  love's  triumphant  wing  ; 
To  swell  the  hymns  of  mighty  praise, 

The  ransomed  armies  sing  ; 

To  wear  the  robes  of  saints  in  light ; 

To  shine  as  shines  the  sun  ; 
To  hear  the  Saviour's  welcome  voice 

Pronounce  the  jilad  "  well  done ! " 


298  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

And,  O,  the  crowning  height  of  bliss, 
Where  all  the  glories  blend, 

To  know  the  bliss,  the  light,  the  love, 
Shall  never,  never,  end ! 

Beyond  the  shades  of  sin  and  woe. 

With  joyful  speed  to  fly. 
And  in  God's  loving  arms  to  rest,  — 

Oh,  it  is  gain  to  die. 


oJOio 


THE  DYING  CHEISTIAN. 

BY  the  couch  of  the  saint  there  are  loved  ones  to 
weep; 
There  are  angels  to  watch  o'er  the  last  weary  sleep ; 
There 's  a  Saviour  to  soothe  every  feeling  of  grief. 
And  a  balm  for  the  spirit  that  sighs  for  relief. 

When  the  soul  thro'  the  Jordan  of  death  deeply  wades. 
And  the  light  of  creation  burns  dimly  and  fades ; 
There's  a  voice  that  can  speak   thro'  the  gathering 

shade,  — 
Saint,  thy  Saviour  is  near  thee,  0,  be  not  afraid. 

As  the  sun  hastens  down  to  his  place  in  the  west. 
And  the  calmness  of  evening  thrills  sweet  through  the 

breast ; 
So  serene  is  the  hour,  when  the  soul  sinks  to  rest. 
And  with  gladness  ascends  to  the  home  of  the  blest. 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  299 


THE  GRAVE. 

HOW  calm  aud  peaceful  is  the  grave  ! 
How  bright  the  tlowers  that  round  it  wave! 
How  clear  the  sky  that  o'er  it  shines ! 

How  soft  the  scene, 
When  morning  dawns,  when  day  declines  ! 


Tlie  weary  there  forget  their  woes  — 
The  pilgrim  hath  a  long  repose  ; 
No  earthly  storms  the  dead  awake ; 

Their  sleep  is  still 
As  sunset  on  the  peaceful  lake. 

The  rich  and  great  are  slumbering  there, 
Set  free  from  earth's  delusive  glare. 
The  poor  are  garnered  in  the  dust. 

Alike  at  rest, 
Till  comes  the  rising  of  the  just. 


0  day  of  glory,  when  the  tomb 

Shall  burst,  and  heaven's  bright  morning  come. 

When  all  that  in  the  earth  repose 

Shall  wake  to  life, 
And  Christ  shall  reign  o'er  all  His  foes ! 


300  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


WHEEE   IS   THY   VICTOEY,  0   GEAVE! 

CHEISTIAN,    awake!    Let   thy   soul    swell   with 
gladness ! 
Prospects  of  glory  dawn  bright  on  thy  sadness  ; 
Eising,  immortal,  thy  spirit  shall  sing,  — 
Grave,  where  's  thy  victory ;  Death,  where 's  thy  sting  ? 

Sown  in  corruption,  the  frame  lies  decaying  ; 

Eaised  in  its  glory,  all  beauty  displaying. 

Body  and  spirit  united  shall  sing,  — 

Grave,  where 's  thy  victory ;  Death,  where  's  thy  sting  ? 

Peacefully  sleep  till  the  trumpet  awake  thee ; 
He  whom  thou  lovest  will  never  forsake  thee  ; 
Eansomed    from    guilt   and   from   death,   thou   shalt 

sing,  — 
Grave,  where  's  thy  victory ;  Death,  where 's  thy  sting  ? 

Then,  when  this  mortal,  immortal  awaking, 
Triumphs,  exulting,  Death's  dark  fetters  breaking ; 
Man  in  his  glorified  nature  shall  sing,  — 
Grave,  where 's  thy  victory ;  Death,  where  's  thy  sting  ? 


oX«o 


HEAVEN. 

PAIN  shall  not  enter  there.     No  thought  of  woe 
Shall  rend  the  tender  heart.     The  silent  tear 
No  more  shall  wet  the  wasting  cheek.     The  eye 
Shall  not  be  dimmed  with  sorrow.     Nor  shall  aught 
Be  done,  or  thought,  or  said,  to  grieve  the  soul 


FROM  EARTH  TO  HEAVEN.  301 

Of  harmless  iiinocence.     The  thouglitless  tongue, 
That  tills  the  world  with  saduess,  then  shall  be 
Employed  in  noblest  praise.     Lover  and  friend, 
And  all  the  dearly  cherished  of  the  heart, 
Who  long  have  rested  in  the  tomb,  shall  come 
And  join  the  choral  strain.     From  earth  aroused. 
The  voice  of  harmony  that  flows  so  sweet 
Around  the  throne,  their  tongues  shall  ever  swell. 
Then,  then,  there  shall  be  peace,  —  a  settled  calm, 
A  soft  serenity,  more  gently  mild  than  earth, 
With  all  its  gorgeous  scenes,  can  hope  to  bring 
A  meet  comparison.     And  all  that  peace 
Shall  live  and  reign  a  long  forever  there. 
Forever  there  !  and  this  eternity 
Shall  make  that  heaven,  a  heaven. 

May  31,  1832. 


RE-UNION   IN  HEAVEN. 

WHEN  SHALL  WE  MEET  AGAIN,  MEET,  NE'ER  TO  SEVER  ? 

The  first  verse  belonged  to  an  English  hymu  which  was  sul)mitted 
to  Mr.  Smitli  by  Lowell  Mason  to  complete,  as  the  remaining  verses 
were  of  a  different  metre.  The  last  verses  were  written  to  conform 
in  spirit  and  measure  with  the  first. 

WHEN  shall  we  meet  again,  — 
Meet,  ne'er  to  sever  ? 
Wlien  will  Peace  wreathe  her  chain, 

Eound  us  forever  ? 
Our  hearts  will  ne'er  repose. 
Safe  from  each  blast  that  blows 
In  this  dark  vale  of  woes. 
Never  —  no,  never. 


302  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

When  shall  love  freely  flow, 

Pure  as  life's  river  ? 
When  shall  sweet  friendship  glow, 

Changeless,  forever  ? 
Where  joys  celestial  thrill. 
Where  bliss  each  heart  shall  fill. 
And  fears  of  parting  chill 

Never  —  no,  never ! 

Up  to  that  world  of  light, 

Take  us,  dear  Saviour ; 
May  we  all  there  unite, 

Happy  forever. 
Where  kindred  spirits  dwell, 
There  may  our  music  swell, 
And  time  our  joys  dispel 

Never  —  no,  never ! 

Soon  shall  we  meet  again,  — 

Meet,  ne'er  to  sever  : 
Soon  will  Peace  wreathe  her  chain 

Eound  us  forever : 
Our  hearts  will  then  repose. 
Secure  from  worldly  woes ; 
Our  songs  of  praise  shall  close 

Never  —  no,  never  ! 


A  REDEEMED   WORLD.  303 


A    EEDEEMED    WORLD. 


YOUR  THOUSAND  VOICES  RAISE. 

A  CENTENARY  HYMN. 
[Tune:  "America."} 

YOUR  thousand  voices  raise, 
In  symphony  of  praise, 
Clear,  sweet  and  strong ; 
Tell  it  with  joy  unknown, 
Tell  it  in  loftiest  tone, 
Jesus  is  King,  alone,  — 
The  note  prolong. 

He  came,  He  saw,  He  died,  — 
Jesus,  the  Crucified ; 

He  lives,  He  reigns. 
In  Him  all  glories  meet ; 
Kings  bow  before  His  feet ; 
His  foes  are  mown  like  wheat ; 
His  throne  remains. 

Born  from  an  infant  root. 
Once  like  a  feeble  shoot. 

Hopeful  and  brave ; 
The  twig  has  grown  a  tree, 
Known  over  land  and  sea,  — 
O'er  what  immensity 

Its  branches  wave ! 


304  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Eide  on,  triumphant  Lord ! 
A  hundred  years  record 

Thy  victories  won  ; 
Hasten  the  glorious  day 
Wlien  all  shall  own  Thy  sway, 
And  earth  and  heaven  shall  say, 

"  The  work  is  done." 


MOEN   OF  ZION'S   GLOEY. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

MOEN  of  Zion's  glory, 
Brightly  thou  art  breaking ; 
Holy  joys  thy  light  is  waking. 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory. 
Ancient  saints  foretold  thee. 
Seraph-angels,  glad,  behold  thee ; 
How  they  glide. 
Far  and  wide. 
Streams  of  full  salvation. 
Free  to  every  nation. 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory. 
Joyful  tidings  bringing, 
All  the  wilds  with  flowers  are  springing ! 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory. 
All  the  nations  hail  thee ; 
Foes  to  God  in  vain  assail  thee ; 
Peace  with  men 
Dwells  again 

What  celestial  j)leasure 

Swells,  a  sacred  treasure. 


A  REDEEMED   WORLD.  305 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory, 
Every  human  dwelling 
With  the  notes  of  joy  is  swelling  ; 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory  ! 
Distant  hills  are  ringing, 
Echoed  voices  sweet  are  singing ; 
Haste  thee  on, 
Like  the  sun. 

Paths  of  splendor  tracing. 

Heathen  midnight  chasing. 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory, 
Now  the  night  is  risen  ; 
Now  thy  star  is  high  in  heaven. 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory, 
Joyful  hearts  are  bounding. 
Hallelujahs  high  are  sounding. 
Peace  with  men 
Dwells  again  ; 

Jesus  reigns  forever, 

Jesus  reigns  forever ! 


THE  GEEAT   SALVATION. 

GLORIOUS  days  shall  be  to  Zion 
When  her  conflicts  are  no  more, 
And  the  Saviour  slie  relies  on. 
Sits  enthroned  in  regal  power. 

Broken,  every  captive's  fetter,  — 

All  in  Jesus  shall  be  free  ; 
Kings  shall  crowd  to  Heaven's  sceptre  ; 

All  the  earth  shall  bow  the  knee. 

20 


306  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Hail,  the  willing  nations,  bending. 
Prince  of  Peace,  before  Thy  throne  ! 

Heaven  to  earth,  in  love  descending, 
Views  a  world  at  peace,  —  Thine  own. 

In  the  scenes  of  coming  glory, 

All  the  ransomed  hosts  shall  share  ; 

All  the  holy,  all  the  lowly, 
Shall  the  crown  of  glory  wear. 

Hosts  from  every  clime  and  nation 
Then  shall  be  in  Christ  made  one ; 

Grained  in  full,  the  Great  Salvation,  — 
Life  and  joy  immortal,  won. 


THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  ASSUEED. 

THE  MORNING  LIGHT   IS  BREAKING. 

This  Hymn,  and  the  National  Hymn,  "  My  country,  't  is  of  thee," 
were  written  while  the  author  was  at  Andover  Theological  Seminary, 
in  1832. 

THE  morning  light  is  breaking ; 
The  darkness  disappears ; 
The  sons  of  earth  are  waking 

To  penitential  tears. 
Each  breeze  that  sweeps  the  ocean, 

Brings  tidings  from  afar 
Of  nations  in  commotion, 
Prepared  for  Zion's  war. 


A  REDEEMED    WORLD.  307 

Eich  dews  of  grace  come  o'er  us, 

In  many  a  gentle  shower, 
And  brighter  scenes  before  us. 

Are  opening  every  hour ; 
Each  cry,  to  Heaven  going, 

Abundant  answers  brings, 
And  heavenly  gales  are  blowing, 

With  peace  upon  their  wings. 


See  heathen  nations  bending 

Before  the  God  we  love  ! 
And  thousand  hearts  ascending 

In  gratitude  above  ; 
While  sinners,  now  confessing, 

The  Gospel  call  obey, 
And  seek  the  Saviour's  blessing,  — 

A  nation  in  a  day. 

Blest  river  of  salvation. 

Pursue  thy  onward  way  ; 
Flow,  thou,  to  every  nation, 

Nor  in  thy  richness  stay ; 
Stay  not,  till  all  the  lowly 

Triumphant  reach  their  home ; 
Stay  not,  till  all  the  holy 

Proclaim,  "  The  Lord  is  come ! " 


308  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

JESUS  EVEE  KEIGNS. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN. 

UP,  ye  nations,  raise 
Songs  of  grateful  praise  ; 
Let  creation  round, 
Eing  the  joyful  sound  ; 
Let  each  happy  voice, 
In  the  Lord  rejoice  ; 
Jesus,  now  adore, 
Sovereign,  evermore ; 
He  who  loved  our  souls, 
He  whose  mercy  rolls 
O'er  our  guilty  stains,  — 
Jesus  ever  reigns. 

Now  His  pains  are  o'er, 
Who  our  sorrows  bore  ; 
Now  He  mounts  the  throne. 
Worthy,  He  alone. 
Evermore  to  wear. 
Wreaths  of  glory  there  ; 
See  the  rainbow  shine, 
Pledge  of  love  divine  ; 
See  it  o'er  His  head, 
Eays  of  splendor  shed ! 
Earthly  glory  wanes ; 
Jesus  ever  reigns. 

Thou,  of  David's  race. 
Thou,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
Thou,  Almighty  Word, 
Thou,  Incarnate  Lord, 


A  REDEEMED   WORLD.  309 

Worthy  art,  to  be 

Praised  in  melody, 

Poured  from  thousand  tongues, 

Swelled  in  thousand  songs. 

Worthy  is  Thy  name, 

Sin-atoning  Lamb, 

Thou,  who  once  wast  slain. 

Evermore  to  reign. 

Lord,  our  praise  we  bring,  — 
Praise  to  Christ,  our  King  ; 
Praise  to  Him  whose  love 
Leads  our  souls  above ; 
Praise  to  Him  whose  power 
Guards  us  hour  by  hour. 
Sing,  ye  choirs  on  high ; 
Angel  bands,  reply. 
Mortals,  old  and  young,  — 
Let  each  joyful  tongue, 
Join  the  lofty  strains,  — 
Jesus  ever  reigns. 


THE   LORD   IS   COME. 

LIGHT  o'er  the  darkened  hills 
Breaks  forth  at  last,  and  fills 
The  glowing  sky ; 
See,  a  new  dayspring  born 
Kindles  a  holy  morn. 
Beaming  on  lands  forlorn. 
While  shadows  fly. 


310  POEMS:    SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Glory  to  God  on  high, 
Wide  let  the  echo  fly  ! 

His  flag,  unfurled, 
Shall  tell  new  wonders  done, 
Shall  boast  new  triumphs  won,  — 
His,  the  Immortal  crown, 

The  conquered  world. 

Welcome  the  glorious  morn, 
Welcome  the  hosts,  new-born. 

Praise  and  adore. 
Dispersed  the  heathen's  gloom, 
Thousands  to  Christ  have  come  ; 
In  Christ  there  still  is  room 

For  thousands  more. 


Hail,  mighty  Conqueror,  hail ! 
Thy  promise  will  not  fail ; 

Thy  crown  assume. 
Speak  from  Thy  throne  on  high. 
Bid  the  glad  tidings  fly, 
And  heaven  and  earth  reply, 

"  The  Lord  is  come !  " 


A  REDEEMED   WORLD.  811 


TEIUMPHS   OF   THE   GOSPEL. 

WHAT  waves  of  music  roll, 
What  songs  of  joy  come  swelling, 
Among  the  angel  bands, 

Along  heaven's  sacred  dwelling, 
When  penitents  return, 

When  dying  souls  re\ive. 
Forsake  the  way  of  death, 
And  learn  for  God  to  live  ! 

Among  the  saints  on  earth, 

What  praise  and  adoration 
To  God  the  Saviour  wake, 

When  lost  ones  seek  salvation  ! 
The  sacramental  host. 

That  spreads  from  sea  to  sea, 
While  the  glad  numbers  grow, 

Sing  their  fresh  Jubilee. 


Hail,  day  of  holy  joy  ! 

Though  earth's  last  days  are  wasting. 
When  happy  converts  come. 

Like  doves,  to  Jesus  hasting  ! 
Kide  on,  Thou  conquering  Prince, 

Till  all  the  world  obey. 
And  all  the  ransomed  earth 

Yield  to  Thy  blessed  sway. 


312  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


SPEED   ON  THY  VICTOEY,  MIGHTY  KING ! 

For  the  Young  Men's  Social  Union,  Boston,  March  19,  1895. 

SPEED  on  Thy  victory,  mighty  King, 
The  world  awaits  Thy  call ! 
Swiftly  Thy  glorious  kingdom  bring, 
And  reign  Thou,  Lord  of  all. 

All  things  are  Thine,  —  the  earth  we  tread, 

The  stars,  the  sky,  the  sea  ; 
And  we  are  in  Thy  image  made,  — 

Our  all  belongs  to  Thee. 

So,  conquering  Prince,  o'er  all  the  world, 

Bid  sin  and  tumult  cease. 
And  Thy  blest  banner  float,  unfurled, 

Above  a  world  at  peace. 

Gather  fresh  crowns,  of  priceless  worth,  — 

Triumphant  Saviour,  Thou,  — 
Till  the  fair  crown  of  all  the  earth 

Shall  glitter  on  Thy  brow. 


A  REDEEMED   WORLD.  313 


THE  PRINCE  OF  SALVATION  IN  TRIUMPH 
IS  RIDING. 

THE  Prince  of  Salvation  in  triumph  is  riding, 
And  glory  attends  Him  along  His  bright  way ; 
The  news  of  His  grace  on  the  breezes  are  gliding, 
And  mortals  are  owning  His  sway. 


The  rays  of  the  gospel-star,  —  see  how  they  brighten  ! 

With  splendors  unknown  the  horizon  they  fill ; 
The  wretched  they  sootlie,  and  the  dark  they  enlighten, 

And  gladness  their  beamings  distil. 


Ride  on,  in  Thy  greatness.  Thou  conquering  Saviour ! 

Let  thousands  of  thousands  submit  to  Thy  reign, 
Like  doves  at  their  windows,  entreat  for  Thy  favor. 

And  follow  Thy  glorious  train. 


Then  sweetly  shall  ring  from  each  sanctified  nation. 
The  voices  of  myriads  tuned  to  Thy  praise, 

And  heaven  shall  re-echo  the  song  of  salvation, 
In  rich  and  melodious  lays. 


314  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 


AMEEICA'S  CHEISTIAN  CENTENNIAL. 

Written  under  the  conviction  that  the  progress  of  Christ's  King- 
dom during  the  First  Century  of  American  Independence  was  typical 
of  its  supreme  extension  during  the  new  century,  just  begun. 

AHUNDEED  years,  —  how  vast  the  sweep 
Of  scenes  that  fill  the  mighty  past ! 
The  sires  that  sowed,  the  sons  that  reap ; 
The  trembling  first,  the  hopeful  last ! 


A  hundred  years,  —  through  peace  and  strifSt 

The  envy  of  a  hundred  lands ; 
The  nation,  nurtured  into  life. 

Founded  in  faith,  in  glory  stands. 

A  hundred  years,  —  what  names  of  power 
With  fadeless  bloom  our  history  wreathe; 

Like  petals  of  some  fragrant  flower, 
A  sweet  aroma  still  they  breathe. 

A  hundred  years,  —  o'er  lands  afar. 

Where  once  at  heathen  shrines  they  fell 

Thousands  have  hailed  the  rising  star, 
Thy  radiant  star,  Immanuel. 

A  hundred  years,  —  from  sea  to  sea 
Freedom's  unsullied  banners  wave  ; 

No  tyrant  bids  us  bow  the  knee. 
No  zealot  rules,  nor  toils  a  slave. 


A  REDEEMED    WORLD.  315 

A  hundred  years,  —  what  scenes  unknown 

In  wondrous  vista  lie  outspread  ! 
Harvests  from  seed  in  weakness  sown, 

Life,  springing  from  the  mighty  dead. 

A  hundred  years,  —  we  wait  His  word 

Whose  fiat  bade  creation  be. 
Who  spake,  and  echoing  chaos  heard, 

And  light  broke  forth  in  majesty. 

A  hundred  years,  —  unshrinking  still, 

We  wait  the  Master's  high  behest ; 
In  filial  trust,  the  Master's  will 

Appoints  our  toil,  provides  our  rest. 

A  hundred  years,  perchance,  may  end, 
And  sin  from  all  its  thrones  be  hurled. 

And  earth  in  humble  reverence  bend 
To  Him  who  rules  a  ransomed  world. 

A  hundred  years,  and  earth,  redeemed, 

Shall  see  her  idol  temples  fall, 
And  He,  whose  star  o'er  Bethlehem  beamed, 

Sit,  crowned,  triumphant.  Lord  of  all. 


oJOio 


THE   DOXOLOGY   OF   EEDEMPTIO^ST. 

REDEEMED  from  death  !  redeemed  from  sin 
Eedeemed  from  ills  without,  within  ! 
Redeemed  !  what  new  light  gilds  the  skies  ! 
What  glories  on  the  soul  arise  ! 


316  POEMS:   SACRED  AND  RELIGIOUS. 

Glory  to  Him  whose  love  unknown 

Eeached  man's  abyss  from  Heaven's  high  throne ; 

Like  some  new  star  its  radiance  beamed, 

A  new  key  rang,  — redeemed  !  redeemed ! 

As  ocean's  billows  swell  and  break, 
The  mighty  tide  of  praise  shall  wake ; 
Thy  love.  Lord,  like  the  unmeasured  sea. 
Shall  waft  a  world,  redeemed,  to  Thee. 

Kedeemed !  creation,  joyful,  brings 
Its  tribute  to  the  King  of  kings ; 
Eedeemed  !  earth's  million  voices  raise 
One  sounding  anthem  to  His  praise. 


Part  IV. 
MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 


pan  IV. 

MISCELLANEOUS   HYMNS   AND 
ODES. 


INTERYIEWS  WITH  NATURE. 


THE   FLAG   IN   NATURE. 

ALL  Nature  sings  wildly  the  song  of  the  free ; 
The  red,  white,  and  blue  float  o'er  land  and  o'er 
sea,  — 
The  white,  in  each  billow  that  breaks  on  the  shore  ; 
The  blue,  in  the  arching  that  canopies  o'er 
The  land  of  our  birth,  in  its  glory  outspread ; 
And  sunset  dyes  deepen  and  glow  into  red. 
Day  fades  into  night,  and  the  red  stripe  retires  ; 
But  stars,  o'er  the  blue,  light  their  sentinel  fires. 
And  though  night  be  gloomy,  with  clouds  overspread, 
Each  star  holds  its  place  in  the  field  overhead ; 
When  scatter  the  clouds,  and  the  tempest  is  through. 
We  count  every  star  in  the  field  of  the  blue. 


318        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


FLOWEES. 

BEEATHS  from  the  upper  world ;  Eden  revived ; 
God's  smiles  on  earth,  made  visible  to  men ; 
Light,  prisoned  up  in  form ;  honey,  enhived ; 
Fair  Paradise,  once  lost,  restored  again. 

Beauty  and  love,  enshrined  in  bell  and  cup ; 

Earth's  innocents,  that  climb  around  our  bowers  ; 
Meek,  brilliant  eyes,  that  look  so  sweetly  up, 

Like  raindrops,  sparkling  after  summer  showers. 

Jewels  to  earth,  as  stars  are  to  the  skies. 

Polished  and  set,  by  more  than  human  skill ; 

Lessons  that  speak,  though  silent,  to  the  eyes,  — 
Vocal  in  vale  and  plain,  on  ridge  and  hill. 


Volumes  of  truth,  that  speak  the  mighty  God, 
Wise,  loving,  pitying,  glorious,  ever  near. 

That  bid  us  trust  the  ever  great  and  good. 

Whose  mercy  wakes  and  crowns  the  rolling  year. 


Symbols  of  man's  short  life,  too  frail  to  stay  ; 

Livmg,  to  die,  —  a  sweet,  but  passing  story ; 
Dying,  to  live  when  spring  renews  its  day,  — 

The  precious  emblems  of  immortal  glory. 


INTERVIEWS    WITH  NATURE.  319 


FLO\^^RS  IN  WINTER 

FAIR  flowers  that  bloom  so  richly, 
As  if  the  summer's  breath 
Were  wafted  o'er  their  birthjilace, 

Aud  not  the  chill  of  deatli ! 
I  hail  the  joyful  emblem,  — 

Fit  cheer  for  hours  of  ^doom, — 
Earth  has  its  wintry  trials, 
But 't  is  not  all  a  tomb. 

I  listen  in  the  evening 

To  the  sighing  of  the  gale ; 
I  watch  the  heaping  snowdrifts, 

And  hear  the  rattling  haU ; 
And  I  think,  with  grateful  spirit, 

What  a  glorious  God  is  ours, 
Who  is  mighty  in  the  tempest. 

And  gentle  in  the  flowers. 

The  piercing  blasts  are  blowing  ; 

But  every  smiling  cup 
Breathes  forth  such  charming  fragrance, 

And  looks  so  sweetly  up, 
I  forget  the  shortened  daylight, 

And  the  wintry  chill  and  gloom, 
And  heaven  seems  hovering  near  me, 

With  its  everlasting  bloom. 

And  I  see  amid  the  darkness 
Of  the  path  that  mortals  tread. 

In  the  land  of  grief  and  partings, 
Of  the  mourning  and  the  dead, 


320       MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

How  God,  with  loving  mercy, 
Softening  the  painful  blow, 

Leaves  joy,  to  gild  our  sorrow, 
Like  flowers  in  time  of  snow. 

The  cherished  forms  that  faltered, 

And  we  laid  them  down  to  rest. 
In  their  still  retreats  are  sleeping, 

"With  the  peace  of  Jesus  blest ; 
Like  the  blossom  from  the  tuber, 

Like  the  harvest  from  the  grain. 
They  will  spring,  —  the  time  approaches. 

To  their  lovely  life  again. 

They  are  living  still  in  beauty. 

Where  the  soft  airs  ever  last. 
Where  they  never  feel  the  fury 

Of  the  winter's  bitter  blast ; 
Nor  frosts,  with  chilling  fingers, 

Nor  griefs,  with  scalding  tear. 
Where  summer  ever  lingers. 

And  flowers  bloom  all  the  year. 


o»ic 


A   SONG   OF    SPEING. 

WELCOME,  the  opening  buds  of  spring ; 
Welcome,  the  dew  and  rain  ; 
Welcome,  the  merry  birds  that  sing ; 
Welcome,  the  bursting  grain. 

Welcome,  the  balmy  airs  that  breathe, 
The  rainbows,  and  the  showers  ; 

Welcome,  the  early  flowers  that  wreathe 
Their  beauty  round  our  bowers. 


INTERVIEWS    WITH  NATURE.  321 

Wild  from  a  thousand  warbling  throats 

Melodious  music  rings ; 
Matin  and  vesper  swells  and  floats,  — 

Nature's  sweet  offerings. 

Each  bird  that  soars,  each  bud  that  breaks 

In  beauty  from  its  cell. 
Tuneful,  or  still,  one  accent  wakes,  — 

"  God  has  done  all  things  well." 

Let  tree  and  wood,  let  vale  and  hill, 

Swell  the  sweet,  grateful  song, 
And  wave,  and  rock,  and  ripplmg  rill, 

The  echoing  strain  prolong. 

^XKo« 

THE   LITTLE   CRICKET. 

YOU  sweet  little  cricket. 
Amid  the  night  dew. 
While  the  moon  shines  so  brightly, 

I  '11  listen  to  you. 
I  love  your  dull  chirping, 

Your  shrill  monotone ; 
You  soothe,  with  your  music, 
This  bosom  so  lone. 

Your  voice,  like  the  breezes 

Tliat  mournfully  play. 
When  the  red  leaves  of  autumn 

Look  gaudy  and  gny, 
Tells  of  joys  now  departed, 

No  more  to  return, 
Of  summer  hopes  blnsted. 

Of  fair  flowers  torn. 

21 


322        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

Sweet  cricket,  thy  music 

Will  quickly  be  still, 
When  the  tempests  of  winter 

Eoar  loud  on  the  hill ; 
But  I  go  when  the  storm  comes. 

Where  all  my  friends  dwell,  — 
No  more  shall  my  heart  say 

To  gladness  farewell ! 

July   25,    1831. 


I 


WILD   STEAWBEEKIES. 

N"  the  thick  and  grassy  wood, 
Where  the  sunny  streaks  are  breaking. 


And  the  birds  their  songs  are  waking, 
Where  the  mossy  flowers  repose. 
There  the  pretty  strawberry  grows. 


Pretty  strawberry,  fresh  and  sweet. 
Say  who  made  your  cheek  so  shining, 
Like  the  crimson  sun  declining, 
And  who  made  your  pleasant  smell,  — 
Tell  me,  pretty  strawberry,  tell  ? 

It  was  God  who  made  you  so ; 
God,  your  ruddy  color  brightens. 
And  your  charming  odor  heightens. 
Leafy  pines,  and  firs  so  straight, 
Whisper,  "  Children,  God  is  great." 


INTERVIEWS    WITH  NATURE.  32' 


THE  CANARY  AT   SEA. 

On  the  Cunard  Steamer  Abyssinia,  far  from  land,  a  canary  bird 
made  its  home  as  contentedly  as  if  in  its  native  forest.  The  poet  has 
given  to  tlie  incident  that  spiritual  lesson  which  has  marked  his  life- 
work  as  a  lover  of  Nature,  in  close  companionship  with  Nature's 
Master,  the  Creator  of   all. 

SWEET  wanderer  o'er  the  sea, 
Where  wild  wmds  moan, 
And  billowy  waves,  like  pulses,  beat 

Their  monotone,  — 
How  tread  thy  little  feet,  so  gay, 

Devoid  of  fear  ? 
How  is  thy  heart  so  brave  and  bold, — 
A  stranger  here  ? 

The  summer  bloom,  the  verdant  fields. 

Are  far  away  ; 
No  leafy  bower,  no  warbled  tone, 

Invites  thy  stay. 
Sea  here,  sea  there,  sea  everywhere, 

Wave  chasing  wave,  — 
In  peril's  hour,  O,  who  has  power 

To  shield  or  save  ? 

Enough  for  thee,  the  strong-rigged  bark, 

In  calm  and  storm, 
Will  shelter  and  protect  from  harm 

Thy  tiny  form  ; 
Cling  to  the  refuge,  and  be  safe 

From  wave  and  gale. 
And  o'er  the  ocean's  boundless  waste 

Securelv  sail. 


324        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

Wanderers  o'er  life's  uncertain  course,  — 

A  dangerous  sea,  — 
Our  only  refuge,  Son  of  God, 

We  find  in  Thee  ; 
Led  captive  by  no  lower  aim, 

To  Thee  we  cling, 
And  rest  in  perfect  faith  and  hope 

Beneath  Thy  wing. 

Sweet,  simple  bird,  of  watchful  eye 

And  lithest  limb, 
Thy  trust  is  in  this  gallant  ship ; 

But  ours,  in  Him. 
Thy  hope  may  founder  through  some  leak, 

Or  stormy  gale  ; 
Ours,  anchored  to  the  throne  of  God, 

Can  never  fail. 

October  24,  1880. 


oJ*lc 


TEEE-PLANTING,  OR  ARBOR  DAY. 

JOY  for  the  sturdy  trees, 
Fanned  by  each  fragrant  breeze, 
Lovely  they  stand. 
The  song-birds  o'er  them  trill ; 
They  shade  each  tinkling  rill ; 
They  crown  each  swelling  hill, 
Lowly  or  grand. 

Plant  them  by  stream  and  way. 
Plant  them  where  children  play. 
And  toilers  rest ; 


INTERVIEWS    WITH  NATURE.  325 

In  every  verdant  vale, 
On  every  sunny  swale  ;  — 
Whether  to  grow  or  fail, 
God  knoweth  best. 

Select  the  strong,  the  fair  ; 
Plant  them  with  earnest  care,  — 

No  toil  is  vain  ; 
Plant  in  a  fitter  jjlace, 
Where,  like  a  lovely  face 
Set  in  some  sweeter  grace, 

Change  may  prove  gain. 

God  will  His  blessing  send ; 
All  things  on  Him  depend,  — 

His  loving  care 
Clings  to  each  leaf  and  flower, 
Like  ivy  to  its  tower,  — 
His  presence  and  His  power 

Are  everywhere. 


326        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


G 


THE   ELOQUENCE   OF   NATUEE. 


0  ye,  and  read  at  length  the  mystic  lore 
Where  some  Niagara's  dark  waters  roar. 


Draw  nearer ;  tremble  at  the  amazing  plan ; 

See  how  they  scorn  the  pygmy  works  of  man. 

Admire  the  swelling,  grand,  foreboding  hush, 

Where  they  are  gathering  for  the  awful  rush 

That  bears  them  thundering  down  the  dizzy  steep, 

To  mingle,  boiling,  in  the  foamy  deep. 

List  to  the  rumbling  of  the  mighty  floods,  — 

Their  eloquence  is  but  the  type  of  God's  ; 

Or,  note  the  tempest's  wrath,  the  lightning's  glare, 

The  rainbow's  image  on  the  cloudy  air,  — 

Bright,  beautiful,  divine,  too  fair  to  stay, 

Where  all  created  beauty  fades  away. 

Think  how  the  whirlwind's  wrath,  the  thunder's  pride, 

Terrific,  echoing  from  the  mountain's  side  — 

Suns,  planets,  comets,  on  their  pathway  rolled. 

Like  brilliant,  burning,  moving  orbs  of  gold ; 

The  summer's  radiant  glow,  mild  autumn's  ray,  — 

All,  all,  the  great  Creator's  might  display. 

Each  flower  that  sheds  its  fragrance  on  the  air 

Shows  some  divinest  signet  fastened  there  ; 

Exalts  the  soul  above  this  meanest  clod. 

And  bids  us  see  and  hear  a  present  God, 

Whose  voice  of  majesty  no  words  confine, — 

An  eloquence  eternal,  deep,  divine. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  327 


KUSTIC    SCENES. 

rUOM  THE  GERMAN. 

MY  HUMBLE  HOME. 

HUMBLE  is  my  little  cottage ; 
Yet  it  is  the  seat  of  bliss. 
Anger  never  dwells  among  us, 
Only  peace  and  happiness  ; 
Kindness  there  you  always  see, 
And  the  sweetest  harmony. 


o>»;c 


PLEASURES   OF   NATUEE. 

HOW  sweet 't is  to  play, 
In  the  green  fields  in  May, 
Beneath  the  tall  trees, 
Or  after  school  hours. 
To  pluck  the  sweet  flowers, 
And  feel  the  fresh  breeze ! 

How  pleasant  to  look 
In  the  murmuring  brook. 

And  hear  its  soft  sound ! 
How  happy  are  we ! 
How  nimble  and  free, 

We  skip  o'er  the  ground  1 


328        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

Now  gone  is  the  light ; 
Now  comes  the  dark  night; 

All  still  is  the  vale. 
We  '11  go  to  our  rest, 
Nor  wake  till  redbreast, 

Kenews  Ms  soft  tale. 


»>««o 


THE  PLEASUEES  OF  INNOCENCE. 

BLISS  is  hovering,  smiling,  everywhere,  — 
Hovering  o'er  the  verdant  mountain. 
Smiling  in  the  glassy  fountain  ; 
Bliss  is  hovering,  smiling,'  everywhere. 

Tender  love  is  active  everywhere,  — 

Active  in  the  shady  bower. 

In  the  little  modest  flower ; 
Tender  love  is  active  everywhere. 

Innocence  unseen  is  ever  near ; 
In  the  tall  tree-top  it  lingers. 
In  the  nest  of  feathered  singers,  — 

Innocence  unseen  is  ever  near. 

Pleasure  echoes,  echoes  far  and  near ; 

From  the  green  bank  decked  with  flowers, 
Sunny  hills,  and  pleasant  bowers,  — 

Pleasure  echoes,  echoes  far  and  near. 

Up  and  weave  us  now  a  flowery  crown ; 
See  the  blossoms  all  unfolding. 
Each  its  beauteous  station  holding,  — 

Up  and  weave  us  now  a  flowery  crown. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  329 

Go  ye  forth  and  join  the  ^lay-day  throng ; 
Sings  the  cuckoo  by  the  river, 
In  the  breeze  the  young  leaves  quiver,  — 

Go  ye  forth  and  join  the  May-day  throng. 


o>»tc 


MY   DELIGHT. 

THROUGH  the  grassy  fields  to  run, 
And  to  see  the  pleasant  sun, 
And  soft  twilight ; 
Through  the  meadow  and  the  grove, 
With  my  nimble  feet  to  rove, — 
Is  my  delight. 

From  the  lofty  hill  to  view, 
The  fair  sky  so  bright  and  blue, 

And  clouds  of  white  ; 
And  some  lovely  song  to  sing, 
"While  I  hear  the  echo  ring,  — 

Is  my  delight. 

When  so  happy  and  so  gay. 
Through  the  flowery  meads  I  stray, 

All  fair  and  bright, 
There  to  pluck  a  rose  for  you. 
Bright  and  sparkling  with  the  dew, 

Is  my  delight. 

In  the  bower  of  shady  trees. 
Shaken  by  the  gentle  breeze. 

By  morning  light, 
Little  Robin  there  to  hear. 
Singing  praises  without  fear. 

Is  my  delight. 


330        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


ON   WAKING  IN  THE  MOENING. 

AROUSE  up,  ye  sleepers,  the  moruing  has  come ! 
The  sun  has  awakened  the  insects'  soft  hum; 
The  sheep  to  the  fields  go. 
The  men  to  the  meadow, 
And  all  to  their  labor  till  daylight  grows  low. 

Oh,  lose  not  the  brightness  of  morning's  young  beams ; 
The  beauties  of  Nature  are  sweeter  than  dreams. 

Your  downy  bed  leaving. 

Go  forth  till  the  evening 
Its  fragrant  air  breathes,  and  the  night-warblers  sing. 

THE  EAIN. 

SEE,  the  rain  is  falling 
On  the  mountain's  side; 
From  the  clouds  dispensing 

Blessings  far  and  wide  ! 
How  the  cooling  shower 
Brightens  every  flower, 
Makes  the  sun-parched  land 
With  fresh  blooms  expand. 

Now  the  rain  is  over, 

See  the  painted  bow. 
O'er  the  distant  hilltop. 

All  its  colors  show. 
God  is  ever  faithful ; 

Let  us  all  be  grateful. 
For  the  rain  and  dew. 

And  the  cloudless  blue. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  331 


PRAYER  BEFORE  SCHOOL. 

FOR  our  life,  so  young  and  pleasing, 
Father,  we 
Sing  to  Thee 
Praises  never  ceasing. 

Let  us,  filled  with  pious  feeling, 

"VVaked  from  rest. 

Neatly  drest. 
Humbly  now  be  kneeling. 

Give  us,  Lord,  a  zeal  for  learning ; 

Mercy  we 

Seek  from  Thee ; 
Make  our  minds  discerning. 

May  we,  through  the  love  of  Jesus, 

Feel  Thy  power. 

Every  hour. 
From  sin  to  release  us. 

»o>»:oo 

THE  SPRING  IS  COME. 

THE  spring  is  come !  and  vales  and  mountains 
Are  clothed  anew  in  lovely  green, 
And  purling  streams  and  mossy  fountains. 
And  blooming  flowers  adorn  the  scene  ; 
Oh,  listen  to  the  insect  hum,  — 
The  spring,  the  spring  is  come  1 


332        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

The  spring  is  come  !   New  life  is  gleaming, 

In  the  fresh  earth  and  brilliant  sky ; 
The  warm  sun  on  the  earth  is  beaming ; 
And  heaven  is  full  of  melody. 
And  listen  to  the  insect  hum,  — 
The  spring,  the  spring  is  come ! 

The  spring  is  come  !  Away  with  dulness  ! 

Go  to  the  rich  and  verdant  fields  ; 
"While  morning  glows  in  all  its  fulness. 

Go  taste  the  joys  the  spring-time  yields, 
And  listen  to  the  insect  hum,  — 
The  spring,  the  spring  is  come  ! 


c 


oJOic 


THE    GAEDEK 

OME,  children,  and  now  to  the  garden  we  '11  go. 
Where  cowslips  and  snow-drops  and  buttercups 
grow. 


The  blossoms  we  '11  pluck  with  a  childish  delight. 
And  get  us  a  bunch  of  the  red  and  the  white. 

We'll  plant  the  dark  roots,  the  young  shoots  we'll 

stick  down. 
To  weave  us  next  May-day  a  flowery  crown. 

Again  at  our  school,  when  the  dear  bell  shall  ring, 
Our  tasks  we  will  learn  and  our  songs  we  will  sing. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  333 


SPRING  FLOWEES. 

KIND,  the  spring  appears  ; 
Softest  smiles  it  wears. 
Lovely  flowers  are  springing; 
Happy  birds  are  singing, 
On  the  fair  green  trees, 
Waving  in  the  breeze. 


Blooming  on  the  ground. 

Many  flowers  are  found  ; 
But  so  modest  keeping, 
On  the  green  banks  sleeping, 

By  the  rivulet, 

Seek  the  violet. 


How  it  fills  the  air, 

With  its  fragrance  there  ! 
Lovely,  little  flower ! 
Bending  to  the  shower. 

May  we  learn  of  thee 

Sweet  humility. 


334        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


THE  THEEE   ELOWEES. 

THERE  bloom  three  young  flowers,  so  sweet  and 
fair, 
In  Nature's  wild,  flourishing  garden. 
On  mountains  and  hillsides,  in  forests  and  vales. 

As  if  playing  watcher  and  warden ; 
Your  beauties,  sweet  flowers,  are  rich  and  divine ; 
They  bloom  in  the  field ;  in  the  nosegay  they  shine. 

The  buttercup,  first,  all  spring-time  so  bright, 

Like  glittering  beads,  strung  in  order ; 
Its  blossoms  like  dew-drops,  the  daughters  of  night, 

Gem  the  fields,  and  the  green  roadsides  border ; 
Wherever  its  clear  yellow  flowers  you  see, 
Its  honey-cup  swells  with  the  food  of  the  bee. 

The  violet,  next,  in  its  liveliest  blue. 

In  green,  clasping  leaflets  half-covered. 
The  spring-meadow  fills  with  its  fragrant  perfume. 

Where  the  red-breast,  by  morning-light,  hovered; 
The  image  of  mildness  and  modesty,  too, 
Is  the  violet-flower,  of  heavenly  hue. 

And  then,  where  the  sparkling  fountain  gleams, 

Beneath  the  noon-sunlight  so  splendid, 
The  flower-de-luce,  with  its  triple  bell,  smiles. 

Till  the  days  of  the  spring-time  are  ended ; 
'T  is  sacred  to  friendship  and  sacred  to  love. 
The  emblem  of  union  in  heaven  above. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  33[ 


A   SONG  IN   THE   WOODS. 

IN  the  cool  and  leafy  grove, 
Hand  in  hand  we  love  to  rove, 
While  in  every  shady  tree, 
Birds  tune  up  their  melody ; 
Let  us  join  their  hajipy  song, 
And  the  harmony  prolong. 

Of  tlie  mighty  oaks  we  '11  sing, 

And  the  flowers  that  near  them  spring; 

Of  the  trees  above  our  head, 

And  the  grass  on  which  we  tread ; 

Of  the  little  verdant  hills, 

Purling  brooks,  and  running  rills. 

Listen  how  the  rustling  leaves, 
Ever  quivering  in  the  breeze, 
Send  forth  each  a  separate  sound 
To  the  echoing  woods  around,  — 
Sounds  of  praise  to  Him  who  made 
Pine-clad  hills  and  forest-glade. 

See  around  the  brilliant  flowers. 
Freshened  by  the  evening  showers. 
Bright  by  morning,  bright  by  night, 
WTien  comes,  and  when  fades,  the  light 
In  the  cool  and  leafy  grove. 
Hand  in  hand  we  love  to  rove. 


336         MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


T 


THE  HUNTSMAN'S   SONG. 

EARAH!   Trarah! 

The  morning  hoar-frost  on  the  cold  earth  glistens ; 
The  bleak  wind  whistles  so  fresh  and  cold, 
The  huntsman  arouses  and  listens  ; 
The  horn  is  winding  so  clear  and  shrill, 
It  calls  him  abroad  to  the  sunny  hill ; 
Trarah  !  Trarah  ! 
The  sunny  hill, 
Trarah!   Trarah!    Trarah! 


Trarah!  Trarah  I 
The  winter's  breeze  makes  strong  his  very  marrow. 
Up  fly  the  birds  —  and  his  eye  is  clear  ; 
He  seizes  the  sharp  gleaming  arrow. 
And  scours  the  hillside  where  waved  the  corn, 
Led  on  by  the  voice  of  the  hunting-horn. 
Trarah!  Trarah! 
The  hunting-horn, 
Trarah  !    Trarah  !    Trarah  1 

Trarah  !  Trarah ! 
It  calls  away,  —  the  sound  of  sport  and  pleasure. 
The  hounds  are  ready  ;  away  we  go  I 
The  evening  our  frolic  shall  measure. 
The  horn  is  winding ;  the  game  is  here ; 
And  the  echo  salutes  us  far  and  near,  — 
Trarah!  Trarah! 
The  game  is  here  ; 
Trarah!  Trarah!  Trarah! 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  ZZl 


INVITATION   TO   THE   COUNTRY. 

THE  winter  winds  are  gone  ; 
Fresh  dews  and  summer  showers, 
Green  grass  and  blooming  flowers, 
Brighten  the  pleasant  lawn. 

Come,  see  the  springing  corn  ; 
Come,  hear  the  soft  birds  singing  ; 
Come,  hear  their  music  ringing 

At  crimson  eve  and  morn. 

Come  to  the  land  of  song,  — 
The  land  of  sweetest  fragrance 
Where  pleasure  throws  its  radiance. 

And  music  floats  along. 

Up  to  the  hill-tops  come, 
Where  bloom  the  tasselled  flowers, 
And  spring,  with  freshened  flowers. 

Raises  its  insect  hum. 


THE   LITTLE   WEAVER 

I  AIM  a  little  weaver,  and  pleasant  are  my  days ; 
My  little  wheel  keeps  whirling,  and  round  me  kitty 
plays. 
My  life  so  calm  and  happy,  so  bright  and  active  is, 
There  is  no  joy  I  wish  for  to  crown  my  cup  of  bliss. 


338         MISCELLANEOUS  UYMNS  AND   ODES. 

My  songs  are  never  silent  but  in  the  peaceful  niglit ; 
I  always  rise  to  labor  when  day  is  growing  light ; 
But  though  I  am  so  busy,  I  'm  sure  I  do  not  care ; 
They  rather  should  be  pitied,  who  always  idle  are. 

And  while  my  wheel  keeps  whirling,  the  hours  they 

seem  not  long ; 
I  feel  all  day  so  happy,  so  lively  is  my  song. 
My  work,  it  never  wearies,  but  gives  me  health,  you  see ; 
And  I  am  always  cheerful,  —  oh,  don't  you  envy  me  ? 

I  care  not  for  the  dainties  and  all  the  fancy  things, 
Which  from  beyond  the  ocean  the  rich  man's  vessel 

brings  ; 
My  turnips  and  potatoes  I  am  content  to  eat ; 
Nor  will  I  ever  murmur  for  want  of  food  more  sweet. 


.j*:o^ 


THE   LITTLE   STAR 

ASTAE  shines  in  the  heavens, 
With  soft  and  tender  light ; 
How  pleasant  is  its  radiance  ! 
'T  is  gone  —  and  now  't  is  bright. 

I  knew  the  place,  at  evening, 
Where  over  me  it  stood. 

Where  doves  all  day  were  cooing, 
Over  the  thick  green  wood. 

I  looked  to  see  it  twinkle, 
Up  in  the  brilliant  blue ; 

Eor  to  its  mighty  station, 
It  soon  would  come,  I  knew. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  339 


OUR  PLEASANT   VILLAGE. 

On,  see  how  bright  and  sweetly  shines 
Our  village  in  the  evening, 
While  crimson  clouds  and  streaks  of  gold 

Their  fairy  forms  are  weaving  ! 
How  peaceful  is  the  dewy  air  ! 
No  place  on  earth  is  half  so  fair. 


Look,  how  the  polished  window-panes 
The  parting  sunbeams  lighten  ; 

And  autumn's  scarlet-colored  leaves, 
Touched  by  the  red  rays,  brighten. 

Oh,  see  our  pretty  village  there  ! 

No  place  on  earth  is  half  so  fair. 


And  now  the  burning  sun  is  gone  ; 

It  only  tips  the  towers 
That  rise  above  the  temple  roof ; 

And  now  the  darkness  lowers. 
But  still  our  village  glimmers  there ; 
No  place  on  earth  is  half  so  fair. 


340        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


SALUTATION   TO   THE   VILLAGE. 

LITTLE  vale,  with  fairy  meadows  ! 
Trees,  that  spread  your  leafy  hands ! 
Flowers,  clothed  in  softest  beauty, 

Lovelier  than  eastern  lands  ! 
Village  !  home  of  every  treasure, 
Thee  we  sing  in  strains  of  pleasure ; 
Village  in  the  silent  vale. 
Lovely  village  !  thee  we  hail  ! 

How  thy  pleasant  evening-shadows 
Make  our  troubled  passions  cease  ; 

And  thy  bright  and  purling  rivers 
Fill  our  souls  with  hallowed  peace. 

Village  !  tender  thoughts  promoting, 

Like  the  clouds  in  azure  floating  ; 

Village  in  the  silent  vale, 

Lovely  village !    thee  we  hail ! 

In  thy  green  and  sunny  pathways. 
Near  thy  bright  and  glassy  streams, 

Free  from  care  we  love  to  wander. 
Cheered  by  summer's  radiant  beams  : 

Scenes  of  sweetest  recollection. 

Sacred  to  the  soul's  reflection, 

Village  in  the  silent  vale, 

Lovely  village  !  thee  we  hail ! 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  341 


FAREWELL   TO   THE   VILLAGE. 

SILENT  vale  !  where  love  and  pleasure 
Ever  round  our  cottage  flowed  ; 
Beauteous  as  the  western  evening, 

Lovely  as  the  sunlit  cloud  ; 
Peaceful  as  the  vesper  bell,  — 
Thee  we  bid  a  long  farewell. 

Fare  thee  well !    Fare  thee  well ! 


Fare  ye  well,  ye  ancient  beeches. 
Which  have  shielded  oft  our  head  ; 

Still  be  green,  ye  sunny  meadows  ; 
Fields  with  brightest  flowers  bespread, 

Scenes,  where  oft  the  reapers'  song 

Swelled  in  echoes  sweet  and  strong. 
All  farewell !    All  farewell ! 


Pleasant  village !  oft  thy  beauties 
Shall  revive  within  our  breast, 

And  the  lovely  recollection 

Soothe,  like  visits  from  the  blest. 

Often  to  our  tearful  eyes 

Shall  thy  cherished  image  rise. 
Fare  thee  well !    Fare  thee  well  1 


342        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


HAIL,   BETHLEHEM'S   STAE! 

THE  gloomy  night  is  fleeing  fast, 
The  morning  star  appears ; 
Its  glowing  rays  a  splendor  cast 

On  morning's  dewy  tears. 
Come,  let  us  join  in  cheerful  praises, 
While  Nature  her  sweet  psean  raises ; 
The  morning  star  appears. 


Fair  star  !  thy  charms  have  ne'er  declined 
Since  first  thy  beams  were  given,  — 

Like  golden  chains  that  firmly  bind 
The  distant  earth  and  heaven. 

Oh,  praise  the  Lord,  as  on  the  morning 

When  angels  sang  the  lovely  dawning 
Of  Bethlehem's  star  in  heaven  ! 


Let  thousand  voices  swell  the  strain ; 

Let  praises  loudly  ring ; 
Let  melody  the  soul  enchain. 

And  all  creation  sing. 
Hail,  Bethlehem's  star,  thy  light,  abiding, 
Thro'  stormy  life  our  path  still  guiding, 

To  heaven  our  feet  shall  bring. 


RUSTIC  SCENES.  343 


NATIVE  LAND,  SO  LOVELY. 

EVENING  winds  are  breathing, 
Through  the  forest  greeu  ; 
Crimson  clouds  are  wreathing, 
In  the  sky,  serene. 

Trees,  so  tall  and  branching, 

Eelics  of  the  past, 
In  the  soft  breeze  waving, 

Eoaring  in  the  blast, 

Bloom  in  future  ages, 

Bloom  in  Freedom's  light; 

Though  the  tempest  rages, 
Stand  in  all  your  might. 

Native  land,  so  lovely, 

Bright  thy  beauties  are  ; 
Long  may  noon  beam  o'er  thee, 
Let  thy  night  be  far. 

On  thy  rising  glories, 
Let  the  clear  light  glow. 

Clearer  tlian  the  mid-day, 
On  the  spotless  snow. 


344        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


SUMMEE  EVENINa 

THE  summer  evening 
Bright  wreaths  is  weaving, 
Eound  vale  and  hill ; 
The  dewy  flowers 
Perfume  the  bowers, 
And  all  is  still. 


The  moon  shines  brightly, 
The  birds  rest  lightly 

Among  the  trees. 
The  reapers,  singing, 
Are  homeward  bringing 

Their  yellow  sheaves. 

Now  day  is  over. 
The  little  rover 

Must  be  at  rest. 
Till  purple  morning 
Awakes  the  dawning, 

In  glory  drest. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS.  345 


VERSES   FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS. 


FREEDOM   ADVANCES. 

Written  January  1,  1829,  while  a  student  in  Harvard  College,  9B 
"  A  Carrier's  Address  "  for  the  "  Christian  Watchman,"  under  the  con- 
viction that  civil  and  religious  liberty  had  gained  a  new  impulse  in 
Europe  and  the  East. 

THE  zephyrs  are  hushed,  and  the  storm  winds  are 
blowing ; 
The  rude  car  of  winter  sweeps  madly  along ; 
The  bright  crystal  streamlet  no  longer  is  flowing ; 
And   the    woodland    has  echoed  the    last    warbled 
song :  — 
But  seraphim  bands  all  their  lyres  are  waking ; 

The  tempests  are  wafting  a  heavenly  song ; 
The  streams  of  salvation  their  barriers  are  breaking ; 
The  heathenish  nations  their  gods  are  forsaking,  — 
All  earth  is  uniting  the  strain  to  prolong ! 

I  slept,  —  and  thick  darkness  around  me  was  stealing ; 

The  light  of  the  gospel  hnd  fadeil  away; 
And  lordly  oppression  lier  sceptre  was  wielding, — 

A  merciless  tyrant,  a  merciless  sway ! 
I  woke,  —  and  around  me  the  dark  clouds  were  flying ; 

A  fair  star  liad  risen  to  lead  on  the  day  ; 
The  mourners  in  Zion  no  longer  were  sighing,  — 
But  wreaths  of  salvation  her  daughters  were  twining, 

And  onward  advanced  the  triumphal  array  ! 


346        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

Thus,  thus  wakes  the  morn,  —  the  mists  are  retreating ; 

The  noon-day  approaches  beyond  the  blue  wave. 
Eound  Heaven's  fair  banners  the  nations  are  meet- 
ing' — 

The  poor  and  unlearned,  the  rich  and  the  brave ; 
The  far  distant  gun  of  the  Moslem  is  rolling. 

The  tyrant  is  fallen,  —  all  dark  is  his  grave  ! 
The  deep,  heavy  knell  of  oppression  is  tolling. 
And  religion  beams  forth,  every  passion  controlling. 

Peace,  peace  to  the  mourners  and  joy  to  the  slave ! 

And,  hark !  the  shrill  trump  of  the  gospel  is  sounding ; 

The  angel  in  heaven  pursues  his  career ; 
The  heart  of  the  widow  with  gladness  is  bounding ; 

And  the  fatherless  child  weeps  the  penitent's  tear. 
And  thou  —  wilt  thou  aid  in  the  work  of  salvation,  — 

Give   thy  bread   to  the  hungry ;   the  heart-broken 
cheer  ? 
Wilt  thou  send  the  blest  story  from  nation  to  nation, 
And  improve  the  brief  day  of  thy  mortal  probation  ? 

Then,  well  cries  the  Watchman,  —  A  Happy  New 
Year! 


WOMAN. 

Read  at  a  social  gathering  in  Boston,  where  a  Christian  woman  very 
acceptably  occupied  tlie  chair,  as  presiding  ofBcer. 

WHAT  were  this  globe,  with  mountain,  plain,  and 
wood, 
Grand  in  their  gorgeousness,  and  great  as  good, 
The  mighty  ocean  with  its  ceaseless  flow, 
Expansive  sky  above  and  sea  below,  — 
Were  all  this  grandeur  in  the  world  alone, 
Without  a  veil  of  beauty  o'er  it  thrown, 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  347 

As  o'er  the  trellis  creeps  the  slender  viue, 

As  o'er  old  ruius  verdant  ivies  twiue, 

As  near  the  crags,  the  humble  wild  flower  sleeps, 

Or  gentle  ripples  smile  ou  ocean  deeps  ? 

What  were  the  storm,  that  darkens  all  the  air, 
When  thunders  roll  aud  flashing  lightnings  glare  ? 
Did  not,  with  voice  of  love,  God's  matchless  will 
Quell  the  wild  tumult,  and  say,  "  Peace,  be  still !  " 
And  bid  the  rainbow  with  its  lovely  form 
Wreathe  by  its  light  the  background  of  the  storm  ? 

The  vale  is  sweeter,  for  the  o'er-hanging  hill ; 
The  beauty  shows  the  grandeur,  grander  still. 
What  were  this  hour  of  joy  and  festive  cheer, 
Though  faces  meet  us  which  our  hearts  revere ; 
Wliat   were   this    scene,   brilliant    with    church   and 

state,  — 
If,  met  in  conclave,  for  some  grave  debate, 
]\Ian  sat,  alone,  sombre  and  grave  and  wise. 
Like  old  gnarled  oak  beneath  the  breezy  skies  ? 


We  love  the  strength  that  rules,  the  light  that  guides. 
The  higher  will  that  judges  and  decides,  — 
Blessed  be  God  !  —  we  own  the  chairman's  power ; 
But  still,  to-night,  't  is  woman  rules  the  hour. 


)48        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


WOMAN,  A  "  SIDE-ISSUE." 

Bead  at  the  Social  Union,  Boston,  October  26,  1868. 

It  has  been  said,  "  Whatever  be  the  beauty  and  charms  of  woman,  let 
her  not  value  herself  too  highly.  For  it  is  undeniable  that,  in  the  work 
of  creation,  man  was  the  principal,  and  woman  only  a  '  side-issue.'  " 

YES,  a  "  side-issue,"  so  you  say, 
Like  a  self -vaunting  Turk : 
Woman  was  but  an  after-thought ; 
But  man,  God's  noblest  work. 

But  no  side-issue  here  to-night, 

As  once  in  Eden's  bowers ; 
For  woman  holds  the  highest  place 

In  this  fair  feast  of  ours. 


Creation's  lords  with  lofty  air 

Their  higher  work  fulfil ; 
But  woman,  in  a  gentler  sphere, 

Labors  with  loving  will. 

We  boast  our  greatness,  wisdom,  wealth, 

Proud  of  our  rank  as  men ; 
But  for  our  mothers,  where  had  we, 

Creation's  lordlings,  been  ? 

When  God  resolved  His  chosen  race 
To  pluck  from  Pharaoh's  hand, 

The  ark  that  saved  the  infant  chief 
Was  by  a  woman  planned. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS.  349 

When  Sisera's  champions  led  the  fight, 

Armed  with  the  warrior's  mail, 
He  failed ;  and  through  his  heathen  head, 

A  woman  drove  the  nail. 

When  Joshua  sent  to  search  the  land 

Where  heathen  banners  waved, 
No  hostile  hand  could  reach  the  spies 

A  woman's  wit  had  saved. 

The  prophet  near  the  brook  lay  hid. 

By  hungry  ravens  fed ; 
Till  woman  built  his  little  room. 

And  feasted  him  with  bread. 

Weary  and  hungry,  Jesus  sat 

At  noon  beside  the  well ; 
And  listening  ears  absorbed  each  word 

Of  love  that  from  Him  fell, 

Samaria's  nobles,  boastful,  dreamed 

Of  worldly  wit  and  lore ; 
A  woman  blessed  His  words  that  day ; 

A  woman  owned  His  power. 

One  meekly  sat  at  Jesus'  feet. 

His  gracious  words  to  hear  ; 
And  one  received  Him,  tired  and  faint, 

With  love  and  festal  cheer,  — 

0  blessed  women,  never  shall 

Their  deeds  forgotten  be  ! 
E'en  the  ascending  Conqueror  fixed 

His  gaze  on  Bethany. 


350         MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

With  tearful  eyes  and  loving  heart, 
Furnished  with  ointment  sweet, 

A  woman  bathed,  perfumed,  and  kissed 
The  Saviour's  sacred  feet. 

Who  but  a  woman  on  His  head 
The  precious  fragrance  strewed  ? 

"  Trouble  her  not,"  the  Master  said, 
"  She  hath  done  what  she  could." 

And,  meanly,  one  his  Lord  betrayed 

With  cruelty  inhuman ; 
And  one  denied  His  blessed  name,  — 

Both  men,  but  never  woman. 

Rudely  the  rough  procession  trod. 
With  smirk  and  shout  and  yell, 

The  pathway  where  the  Son  of  God 
Beneath  His  burden  fell. 

Where  were  the  men  ?     They  in  that  hour 

Hid,  trembling  and  afraid  ; 
Only  the  women  near  their  Lord 

Lingered  and  wept  and  prayed. 

When,  dying  on  the  shameful  cross. 

In  agony  He  hung. 
The  precious  word  "  mother  "  was  heard 

Last  hngering  on  His  tongue. 

Up,  curious  Peter !  seek  the  place 
Of  the  Great  Captive's  tomb  ; 

Run,  loving  John,  before  the  rays 
Of  morn  the  skies  illume ! 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIOXS  351 

Tliey  rose,  they  ran  ;  with  joy  they  saw 

The  garb  the  Saviour  wore,  — 
But  women  at  the  sacred  spot 

Had  worshipped  long  before. 

When  first  a  church  on  Europe's  soil 

Like  a  new  sunlight  burst, 
And  grew  apace,  on  its  fair  roll 

A  woman's  name  stood  first. 

When  science  would  new  worlds  evoke, 

Beyond  the  mighty  sea, 
Spain's  nobles  doubted  if  at  all 

Such  wondrous  things  could  be. 

Men  locked  the  treasury  of  state, 

"  No  funds  to  spare  to-day  ! " 
She  sold  her  jewelled  rings  to  send 

Columbus  on  his  way. 

Brave  Isabella !  she  alone 

Saw  glimmerings  in  the  skies  ; 
America  was  sought  and  found,  — • 

A  woman's  enterprise ! 

There  sleeps  upon  a  lonely  isle, 

Far  o'er  the  southern  wave, 
The  proto-martyr  of  our  work, 

The  heathen  world  to  save. 

That  silent  sleeper's  gentle  name 
Still  breathes  like  sweet  perfume ; 

The  sacred  dust  of  woman  fills 
That  lonely,  glorious  tomb. 


352        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

AVhere  were  our  honored,  martyred  chief, 
Who,  through  the  stormy  wave, 

Safely  conveyed  the  ship  of  state, 
Patient  and  wise  and  brave ; 


Whose  sun  has  set,  whose  star  gone  down. 
When  shall  we  see  such  other  ? 

But  what  had  honored  Lincoln  been 
But  for  his  Christian  mother  ? 


And  what  were  he  whose  deeds  of  might 

On  every  banner  flaunt. 
But  for  the  pious  woman's  name 

Who  made  him  U.  S.  Grant. 


Talk  of  "  side-issues,"  if  you  please ; 

Cry  "  woman  "  —  "  Need  n't  heed  her  ! " 
But  history  and  love  reply, 

"  Oh,  no,  she  is  the  leader." 


Not  a  "  side-issue  "  here  to-night, 
As  once  in  Eden's  bowers  ; 

But  woman  holds  the  highest  place 
At  this  fair  feast  of  ours. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  353 


THE  GOOD   AND   GREAT   MAN. 

IIvMN  for  tho  Soldier's  Corps  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  Chicago,  111., 
May  15,  1887. 

WHO  is  the  truly  good  and  great  ? 
Who,  worthy  of  the  highest  fame  ? 
And  who,  among  the  sons  of  men, 

Shall  hold  the  most  distinguished  name  ? 

The  man  whose  heart  and  hands  are  pure ; 

Who  rules  his  thoughts,  who  rules  his  will ; 
Resists  temptation's  fiercest  flood, 

Unsullied  keeps  his  honor  still ; 

Who  heeds  the  cry  of  want  and  woe, 
Wlio  gently  soothes  the  sufferer's  pain  ; 

Pities  the  tempted  ones  who  fall, 
And  sets  them  on  their  feet  again ; 

Who  walks  'neath  heaven's  o'er-arching  dome 
Purely  as  angels'  feet  might  tread ; 

And  love  and  faith  combine  to  weave 
A  glorious  halo  round  his  head  ; 

Who,  earnest,  keeps,  with  reverent  step, 
The  ways  the  pious  fathers  trod ; 

Who  shuns  the  intoxicating  cup, 

And  loves  his  country  and  his  God,  — 

He  shall  enjoy  the  highest  praise 
To  mortals  due,  to  mortals  given  ; 

Be  owned,  an  honor  to  his  race, 

And  wear  the  crown  of  life  in  heaven. 

23 


354        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 


DANGEEOUS  PEECOCITY. 

YOUTHS   of   few  summers  —  boys,  still  dolts  at 
school. 
Leaping  the  rigors  of  parental  rule  — 
Deem  all  control  a  bore,  and  vote  it  harsh ; 
Ape  foreign  style,  and  sport  the  curled  mustache ; 
Plunge  with  a  zest,  in  nonsense  and  in  sin,  — 
Hair-oil  without,  and  hair -brained  skulls  within : 
The  pomp,  external,  affluently  shed. 
Proclaims  they  have  within  an  empty  head. 
How  eloquently  weakness  tells  its  tale ! 
Like  ships  that  tower  aloft,  with  wind  in  every  sail. 

The  gentle  sex,  grown  wise  as  Nature's  lords, 
Must  learn  the  magic  of  some  mystic  words 
From  learned  juntos,  and  aspire  to  speak 
Some  hidden  mystery,  in  classic  Greek. 
They  wear  the  secret  charm  upon  the  breast. 
Like  evening's  star  upon  the  blushing  west. 
Too  frank,  too  good,  the  luscious  truth  to  hide. 
They  choose  to  wear  the  symbol  all  outside ; 
And  when  these  blooming  bowers  of  hope  they  leave. 
Commit  the  secret  to  their  sister  Eve. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  355 


"A   LITTLE   UPPISH."^ 

«    A    LlTTLEuppish,"  — Well,  itis 
l\.     The  style  of  modern  days ; 
For  young  America  delights 
In  such  peculiar  ways. 

The  boy  escaped  from  female  garb, 

Aged  just  twenty  moons, 
Feels  very  "  uppish,"  when  he  sports 

His  boots  and  pantaloons. 

The  girl  in  hoops  and  waterfalls, 

Just  entering  her  "  teens," 
Is  "  uppish,"  as  if  born  to  sit 

With  duchesses  and  queens. 

And  when  the  child,  become  a  bride, 

Sits  on  the  household  throne, 
Her  dear  liege  lord  she  sometimes  snubs, 

Alas,  too  "  uppish  "  grown. 

May  not  a  young  and  offshoot  church 

Be  good  as  any  other  ? 
Oh,  yes ;  when,  "  uppish  "  grown,  she  thinks 

She 's  wiser  than  her  mother. 

Who  wonders  that  the  offshoot  stands 

With  such  rich  grace  endued  ? 
She  feels  the  thrill  in  all  her  veins 

Of  her  strong  mother's  blood. 

1  Read  at  a  Social  Union,  Springfield.  Mass.,  whcu  a  yonnp  offshoot 
church  was  characterized,  by  Kev.  Dr.  G.  B.  lUe,  pastor  of  the  mother 
choTcb,  as  "  a  little  uppish." 


356        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

"  A  little  uppish  ! "     Gently  speak, 

'T  is  but  a  fault  of  youth ; 
And  grace  will  cure  it,  wait  a  while, 

Through  the  blest  power  of  truth. 

Thank  God,  such  faults  are  but  of  earth ! 

Thank  God,  they  pass  away, 
As  clouds  of  night  and  gloom  withdraw 

Before  the  opening  day ! 


o>»ic 


THESE   MODEEN   TIMES. 

LIEE  in  these  modern  days  strange  freaks  assumes ; 
Old  truth  retires,  and  feeble  falsehood  comes ; 
Fiction  and  fancy,  all  the  live-long  day. 
And  airy  nothings,  are  the  things  that  pay. 

The  loudest,  lightest,  for  the  worthiest  pass,  — 
As  rise  balloons,  because  their  filled  with  gas. 
Men  scorn  the  wisdom  of  the  hoary  sage. 
And  eloquently  boast  this  learned  age :  — 

An  age  of  shallow  wit  and  weak  pretence, 
Whose  greatest  want  is  want  of  common  sense ; 
The  gaping  crowd  admires  each  changing  scene. 
As  some  new  wonder,  —  for  the  crowd  is  green. 

Fashions  and  follies  bear  the  masses  by. 
And  silks  and  ribbons,  with  their  rainbow  dye, 
Or  flutter  in  the  air,  a  graceful  show. 
Or  sweep  the  dusty  thoroughfares  below. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  357 

Along  the  street  their  gaudy  pageants  glide, 
Gay  as  the  Lutterllies  of  summertide,  — 
With  equal  beauty,  equal  lightness  fraught, 
As  little  burdened  Avith  the  weight  of  thought. 

Perchance,  but  spendthrifts  on  an  empty  purse  ; 
Perchance,  the  victims,  too,  of  something  worse. 
An  eloquence  of  manner  often  tells, 
Some  tilings  have  naught  but  tongues,  besides  church 
bells. 

September,  1838. 


A  MEPtKY   HOUR. 

A.  E.  Sloan,  Esq.,  of  Cincinnati,  delivered  a  course  of  three  lectures, 
entitled  "  Merry  Hours."  lu  advance  of  the  course  he  selected  the 
names  of  several  persons  and  things  wliich  would  be  incidentally  intro- 
duced in  the  lectures,  and  requested  Dr.  Smith  to  write  for  him,  for 
his  u.se,  the  prelude  to  each  lecture.  The  notice  was  very  sudden  ;  but 
the  impromptu  responses  are  given  below,  as  illustrations  of  the  versa- 
tility of  the  poet,  in  "  Mirthful  Moments." 

Humorous  Fragments,  No.  1. 

LEND  your  ears,  gentle  friends,  throw  your  bu.'=i- 
ness  aside, 
"  Tom  Pidger  "  is  going  to  trot  out  "  his  bride ; " 
On  my  word,  you  shall  learn,  drawn  true  to  the  life, 
'Mid  the  frolic  and  fun,  what  makes  "  a  good  wife ;  " 
Or  lawyer's,  or  "  minister's,"  even  your  own,  — 
(Aside)  if  your  willing  to  yield  her  your  throne. 

If  you  've  done  "  Saratoga,"  and  drunk  of  its  water, 
On   a   trip   with   your   wife,   or   your   merry-tongued 
daughter ; 


358        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

If  you've  been  at  the  seashore,  where  morals  grow 

lax ; 
Or  learned  "  early  rising  "  from  witty  "  J.  Saxe,"  — 
1 11  warrant  you  need,  after  such  relaxation, 
Some  muscular  fun,  before  your  vocation 
You  ply,  like  an  engine,  through  snow,  sleet,  and  rain, 
And  buckle  to  labor  and  business  again. 
So  smooth  out  the  creases  that  furrow  your  brow, 
Wliile,  juicy  as  apples  just  plucked  from  the  bough, 
I  strive,  gentle  friends,  to  the  best  of  my  power. 
To  give,  as  per  program,  a  right  "  merry  hour." 

Humorous  Fragments,  No.  2. 

If  I  should  open  here  at  once,  and  empty  all  my 
budget, 

Like  some  rich  mine  of  gold,  condensed  in  one  enor- 
mous nugget,  — 

Talk  in  one  breath  of  courtship,  love,  and  ardor  pa- 
triotic, 

Mixing,  like  old  Egyptian  priests,  hieratic  and  de- 
motic, — 

Your  sides  would  shake,  your  brain  would  ache  amid 
the  varied  clatter, 

And  echoes  ring  from  all  the  hall,  "  Good,  sir,  what  is 
the  matter  ? " 

So,   mindful  of   your  ease,  I   choose   to  give   you   in 

detail,  — 
Just  as  your  daily  letters,  friend,  come  one  by  one  by 

mail,  — 
How  "  Mr.  Winkle  "  sought  "  the  springs  "  where  wit 

and  beauty  fed ; 
And  "  Pickwick  at  the  Ipswich  Inn  "  once  missed  his 

way  to  bed ; 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  359 

And   Wendell   Hftlmes,    the   autocrat,  —  his   wit   put 

under  ban,  — 
Kesolved,  "  I  never  more   shall   dare   he   witty  as   I 

can." 
Perhaps,  to  try  anotlier   strain,  and  prove   its  potent 

magic, 
My  rendering  of  "Clarence'  Dream,"  will  give  you  a 

touch  of  tragic. 
So  here  you  have  a  program  true,  —  nut  baseless  as 

false  rumor,  — 
Apply  your  ears  and  you  shall  hear  "  fragments  of  wit 

and  humor." 

Humorous  Fragments,  No.  3. 

Tlie  light  and  dark,  the  grave  and  gay,  make  up  the 

round  of  life ; 
Pathetic  scenes  and  mirthful  hours,  —  now  rest,  now 

battle's  strife. 
Chiefly  in  merry  mood  my  steps  from  scene  to  scene 

shall  roam ; 
A  tear  may  dampen  on  your  lids  for  the  "  dear  folks 

at  home ; " 
You  needs  must  hear  how  "  Harry  Fifth  "  manoeuvred 

for  "  his  wife  ; " 
And  roguish  Kate,  with  cunning  grace,  worried    the 

Prince's  life. 
There 's  something   sweet   in    early  "  love  ; "  I    think 

you  've  found  it  so ; 
Some,  in  its  budding  promise  yet,  —  some  knew  it  long 

ago. 
Sometimes  the  sly,  winged  Cupid  puts  a  sting  within 

your  marrow ; 
But  oftener  smitten  hearts  declare,  there's  honey  on 

his  arrow. 


360         MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

Soho !  you  speak  of  "  Yankee  Land,"  a  noble  country, 
truly ; 

I  quite  agree  with  you,  my  friend,  I  mean  to  praise  it 
duly. 

Amid  the  wealth  of  sea  and  soil,  republic,  kingdom, 
throne, 

This  gem  of  all  the  nations  gleams,  a  diamond  set 
alone. 

You  thought  of  courtship  when  I  spoke  just  now  of 
Henry  V. ; 

Now  leave  the  ship  and  keep  the  court,  take  land  in- 
stead of  sea. 


Call   up  your  jury,  Sherilf  B.,  and   summon  in  the 

Court ; 
"  Bardell  and  Pickwick's  "  case  is  reached,  —  so  read 

the  clerk's  report. 
This  fills  the  docket,  gentle  friends :  these  petals  make 

the  flower ; 
Unfolding,  one  by  one,  their  scent  will  fill  the  "  merry 

hour." 
Unconsciously  the  sunlit  sands  will   trickle   through 

the  glass. 
While    wit   high    carnival   maintains,   and   "Mirthful 

Moments"  pass. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  361 


ELOQUENCE. 

Extracts  from  poem  read  before  the  riiilliermeuian  Society,  of 
Browu  University,  11.  I.,  September,  1838 ;  aud  before  the  Erosophian 
Adelphi,  of  Waterville  College,  Maine,  August,  1840. 

WHAT,  then,  is  elo([ueuce ?     No  mere  parade 
Of  gorgeous  words,  in  gorgeous  forms  arrayed ; 
No  pomp  of  style,  no  art  by  masters  taught ; 
Not  graceful  gesture,  not  profoundest  thought, 
Nor  reason's  power,  nor  feeling  most  intense,  — 
Expound  the  matchless  power  of  eloquence ! 
What  more  are  these  than  rudimental  parts,  — 
Disjecta  membra  of  the  art  of  arts  ? 
Show  me  the  man  whose  words  in  torrents  rush, 
While  tides  of  feeling  from  his  full  soul  gush ; 
Simple  and  clear  in  style,  in  action  strong, 
With  Nature's  purest  utterance  on  his  tongue ; 
Deep,  rich  in  thought,  majestically  bright, 
In  illustration,  like  meridian  light ; 
Persuasive,  gentle,  graphic,  great,  sublime, — 
A  giant  midst  the  pygmies  of  his  time  ; 
In  whom,  unconscious.  Nature's  beauty  gleams, 
And  art  itself,  but  perfect  Nature  seems ; 
Able  to  wield  the  fiercest  mob  at  will, 
Like  Him  whose  voice  bade  the  rough  sea  be  still. 
And  every  billow  settled  at  His  word. 
The  ocean  yielding  homage  to  its  Lord ;  — 
That  man  is  eloquent;  a  coal  divine, 
Brought  by  some  seraph  from  the  eternal  shrine, 
Has  touched  his  lips,  set  loose  his  noble  mind 
From  clogs  that  hold  the  mass  of  human  kind. 
Made  him  soar  upward,  gloriously  free, 
And  breathe  the  soulful  air  of  liberty. 


362         MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

But  not  in  him  alone  the  gift  resides  ; 

Pure  eloquence  has  many  a  home  besides  : 

Not  fettered  down,  't  is  true,  by  stated  rules. 

Chastened  and  trained,  like  logic,  in  the  schools, 

Not  forced,  like  rhetoric,  to  be  an  art,  — 

But  breathing  life  and  power  from  Nature's  heart. 

Wildly,  but  sweet,  its  lovely  cadence  floats. 

Well  worthy  to  be  viewed  as  Heaven-taught  notes. 

Where  can  a  spot  in  Nature's  ample  round. 

Filled  with  Jehovah's  workmanship,  be  found,  — 

A  spot  where  myriad  suns  converge  their  rays, 

And  worlds  to  worlds  respond  their  Maker's  praise, 

Or  where  in  meaner  ranks  creation  throngs, 

And  countless  thousands  chant  their  gladsome  songs, 

While  the  miuutest  worm  is  called  to  share  — 

Sublime  compassion  !  —  its  Creator's  care. 

Where,  where  a  ^pot,  through  Nature's  vast  extent. 

But  God  has  made  superbly  eloquent ! 

See  where  Imagination  mounts  its  throne. 

And  boasts  a  rich  creation,  all  its  own, 

Bold,  mighty,  clear,  magnificent,  complete, — 

There  all  ideals  of  perfection  meet ! 

If  the  real  world  is  eloquent  with  truth. 

In  art  and  nature,  hoary  age  and  youth, 

Which,  though  it  grieves  us,  still  demands  an  ear,  — 

And  woe  betide  the  man  who  scorns  to  hear ;  — 

Imagination,  in  its  rainbows  drest. 

Utters  its  eloquence  m  every  breast ; 

Puts  on  all  charms,  assumes  all  gay  attire ; 

Makes  tears  of  blood,  or  breath  of  living  fire : 

Eaises  the  beggar  to  a  kingly  throne, 

Or  nods,  and  thousands  tread  the  monarch  down ; 

Bids  the  dark  ocean  heave  its  waves  on  high. 

Or  whispers,  and  the  stormy  tempests  die ! 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  363 

Touched  by  its  power,  we  start  from  troubled  sleep, 

Tremble  and  quiver,  and  long  vigils  keep ; 

Again,  it  lulls  us  to  an  angel's  rest,  — 

Pure,  sweet,  and  tranquil  as  the  evening  west ; 

Moved  by  the  scenes  it  feigns,  our  hearts  have  bled, 

Grief  rose  in  floods,  tears  were  in  torrents  shed  ; 

Bound  by  the  magic  of  its  mighty  spell, 

"We  wept  in  agony,  when  all  was  well ! 

Oh,  say,  what  mistress  else  has  strength  to  bind 

The  secret  movements  of  the  free-born  mind  ? 

What  energy  besides  can  melt  and  mould 

The  human  spirit  like  to  liquid  gold  ? 

What  agent  rule  us  by  a  law  so  stern. 

Which  oft  disgusts  us,  while  we  o'er  it  yearn  ? 

Say,  what  within,  beyond,  the  realm  of  sense. 

Boasts  with  more  right  the  power  of  Eloquence. 


SOUL-LIBEPtTY,  THE  WATCHWORD   OF  THE 
WOULD. 

The  following  verses  were  originally  written,  as  will  appear  during 
the  perusal,  to  honor  the  "  Early  Baptists  of  New  England."  They 
have  a  larger  range  of  tribute  than  belongs  to  any  individual  branch 
of  the  Church  of  Christ.  They  reflect  tliose  elements  of  character 
which  pervaded  the  early  Christians  of  America,  and  made  American 
Independence  possible. 

SING,  Muse  of  history,  sing  the  deathless  fame 
Of  heroes  honored  by  a  spotless  name ; 
From  selfish  aims  and  low  amljition  pure. 
Born  for  a  work  which  ever  shall  endure. 
Brave  men  and  true,  with  fearless  steps  they  trod, 
Soul-liberty  their  aim,  —  their  leader,  God. 


364        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND   ODES. 

Slaves  to  no  creed,  chained  by  no  iron  rule. 
Bound  by  no  ritual,  servants  of  no  school, 
Pledged  to  no  standing  order,  all  their  plan 
To  trust  God's  truth  to  God,  man's  rights  to  man,  — 
They  held  no  precept  but  the  Saviour's  word, 
Called  no  one  "  Master  "  but  their  glorious  Lord. 
They  claimed  no  right  the  conscience  to  restrain, 
Deemed  human  rites  both  useless  things  and  vain, 
Taught  infant  baptism,  —  when  the  babes  believed, 
And  their  young  hearts  the  Saviour's  grace  received ; 
Believed  in  sprinkling  —  of  Christ's  precious  blood  — 
And  urged  their  converts  to  that  cleansing  flood. 
But,  dead  to  sin,  they  chose  the  mystic  grave, 
Memorial  blest  of  Him  who  came  to  save  ; 
Then  taught  the  world,  by  charity  divine. 
How  Christ's  sweet  spirit  in  the  life  can  shine ; 
All  men  embrace  within  its  mighty  span, 
Grant  each  his  right,  and  honor  man  as  man. 


Careless  of  steepled  grace  and  Gothic  pile. 

Their  earliest  church  on  yonder  sea-girt  isle 

In  faith  they  planted,  and  bedewed  with  tears 

The  infant  slip,  the  joy  of  later  years. 

When    scourged  by    power,   the    cruel    stripes    they 

bore ; 
Eased  by  God's  succor,  made  their  converts  more. 
When  doomed  to  exile,  wider  still  they  spread 
The  faith  they  loved,  the  truth  for  which  they  bled. 
Their  zeal  for  God,  by  fire  and  dungeons  tried, 
Grew  when  they  suffered,  triumphed  when  they  died. 
Free  as  the  water,  rippling  on  their  strand, 
Beaching  and  kissing  every  distant  land. 
So  the  broad  truths  they  taught,  hemmed  in  no  more. 
Seek  every  land,  and  find  each  distant  shore. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  365 

The  church  tliey  founded  here,  oppressed  and  tried, 
For  which  they  suffered,  and  in  which  they  died. 
Stood    for    Christ's    truth,    brought    freedom    to    the 

oppressed, 
Joy  to  the  prisoner,  —  to  the  troubled,  rest ; 
Like  some  fair  beacon,  marked  the  blessed  way, 
And  shed  its  welcome  light  across  the  bay. 
They  passed  from  earth,  the  champions  in  the  fight, 
Their  hearts  undaunted,  and  their  armor  bright ; 
Servants  of  men  not  they,  but  fearing  God  ; 
And  countless  thousands  in  their  steps  have  trod. 

As  gentle  clouds  that  drink  the  morning  dew 
Float  in  the  light,  and  bathe  in  heaven's  bright  blue. 
But,  noonday  past,  in  gold  and  crimson,  rest, 
Like  gorgeous  mountains,  in  the  glowing  west, 
While  day  departs  in  peaceful  beauty  die, 
Leaving  their  tranquil  glow  along  the  sky,  — 
So  lived  Christ's  witnesses,  friends  of  Christ's  truth, 
As  men  endowed  with  an  unfailing  youth, 
And  dying,  left,  like  daylight's  golden  train, 
Blest  memories  in  which  they  live  again. 

0  men  of  God,  0  men  of  faith  and  prayer. 

Whose  souls  craved  freedom  as  the  lungs  crave  air. 

Blest  for  your  work,  whose  fruits,  like  harvests,  wave. 

Blest  for  the  noble  heritage  ye  gave, 

In  filial  love,  in  manly  strength  and  cheer. 

In  queenly  charms  and  beauty,  gathered  here. 

Honors  sincere  around  your  brows  we  wreathe. 

And  blessings  on  your  memories  we  breathe ; 

Be  ours  the  honor  and  the  bliss  to  wear 

With  grateful  joy  and  pride  your  mantles  rare, 

Till  o'er  each  bannered  height  shall  swing,  unfurled, 

"  Soul-liberty,"  —  the  watchword  of  the  world. 


366        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


THE   UNFETTERED   CONSCIENCE. 

In  1665  the  authorities  of  the  Town  of  Boston  nailed  up  the  doors 
of  the  First  Baptist  Church,  and  forbade  its  use.  The  order  was  soon 
after  revoked. 

At  the  200th  Anniversary  of  the  historic  event  above  noticed,  the 
following  lines  were  read,  to  illustrate  that  heroism,  founded  upon 
religious  convictions,  which  largely  distinguished  the  Founders  of  the 
Great  American  Republic. 

AYE,  "  close  the  doors,  and  nail  them  fast," 
"  Shut  out  the  faithful  few  " 
Who  nailed  their  banners  to  the  mast. 

To  Christ  and  conscience  true ; 
Their  motto, "  What  the  Scripture  saith," 

With  souls  serene  and  brave, 
And  held  unshrinkingly  the  faith 
The  Word  and  Spirit  gave. 

Aye,  "  Nail  the  doors,"  —  bleak  winds  of  March 

Eoared  round  the  little  flock  ; 
But,  peaceful  as  the  heaven's  blue  arch. 

Their  zeal  defied  the  shock ; 
Not  theirs,  made  weak  by  coward  fear. 

The  truth  they  loved,  to  yield  ; 
Not  theirs,  compelled  by  scoff  and  jeer, 

To  hasten  from  the  field. 


One  Sabbath,  scattered  through  the  town. 
Barred  from  their  house  of  prayer, 

Crushed  by  the  ruler's  scorn  and  frown, 
The  people's  taunt  and  stare  ; 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  367 

The  next,  to  God  and  duty  true, 

Met  iu  their  lowly  shed. 
They  worshipped  Him  iu  tears,  who  knew 

Not  where  to  lay  His  head. 

Aye,  "  Nail  the  doors,"  —  the  rulers  deemed 

Their  act  had  power  to  bind 
The  sacred  rights  of  men  redeemed. 

To  crush  the  freeborn  mind  ; 
But  who  shall  bind  the  beams  of  light 

The  sun  at  midday  flings  ? 
Or  check  the  eagle's  heavenward  flight 

By  cobwebs  on  his  wings  ? 

Prisons  and  fines,  and  pain  and  death. 

In  vain  assert  control 
O'er  that  free  thing,  the  Almighty  breath, 

God's  image  in  the  soul ; 
Tyrants  of  earth,  with  mace  and  crown, 

May  make  an  empire  cower ; 
The  soul  —  an  empire  of  its  own  — 

Defies  their  utmost  power. 

Can  man  o'er  noontide's  glory  bring 

A  pall  of  blackest  night  ? 
Or  grains  of  dust  upon  his  wing 

Impede  the  seraph's  flight  ? 
God's  thought,  unchecked  by  human  rule. 

Shall  hold  its  mighty  sway  ; 
God's  law  shall  found  its  lofty  school, 

And  love  make  all  obey. 

Aye,  "  Nail  the  doors,"  —  the  mighty  wrong 

The  erring  hammer  wroufrht,  — 
A  seed,  that  day,  —  harvests,  ere  long,  — 

"With  wondrous  fruits  was  fraught; 


368         MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

As  ships,  in  ballast,  oft  depart. 
Yet,  when  they  homeward  sail, 

Bring  wealth  uncounted  to  the  mart, 
Nor  heed  the  stormy  gale. 

Aye,  "  Nail  the  doors,"  —  yet  God's  true  light 

From  God's  blest  Word  will  shine  ; 
Conscience  and  truth  will  have  their  right,  — 

"  'T  is  human,"  't  is  divine  ; 
Hold  in  your  leash  the  billowy  sea, 

Fetter  the  waves  of  sound, 
Man's  soul,  —  God's  truth,  —  divinely  free. 

By  man  cannot  be  bound. 


BE  JOYFUL. 

Breakfast  Hymn,  for  the  American  Tract  Society,  May,  1864. 

JOY !  —  for  the  precious  seed  that  springs 
In  fields  which  God,  the  Lord,  hath  blessed  ; 
Joy  !  —  for  the  sower,  where  he  sings 
On  the  bright  hills  of  heavenly  rest ! 

Joy !  _  for  the  fields  where  men  have  strewed, 
In  faith  and  love,  salvation's  leaves  ! 

Joy !  —  for  the  reaper,  safe  with  God, 
And  honored  with  his  ripened  sheaves  ! 

Joy  for  the  fathers !  once  they  wrought 
'Mid  scenes  of  sorrow,  blood,  and  strife ; 

Gladly  we  choose  the  paths  they  sought, 
And  track  their  steps,  to  endless  life. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  369 

Joy  for  the  fallen  !  glory  won, 

No  more  the  dust  of  earth  they  tread ; 

The  work  proceeds,  —  and  God's  dear  Son 
Shall  triumph,  where  their  feet  have  bled. 

Joy  for  the  Saviour  !  sin,  o'er-thrown 
At  last,  no  more  fierce  fight  shall  wage. 

Joy  for  Immanuel !  wear  the  crown, 
Immortal  Prince,  —  from  age  to  age  1 


THE   CHRISTMAS   TREE. 

IN  all  this  bright  and  pleasant  land 
Of  sunshine,  dew,  and  flowers. 
Has  sprung  to  life  no  Christmas  tree 
More  fair  than  this  of  ours. 

Up  from  the  strengthening  earth  no  sap 
Flows  out  from  stem  to  stem, 

But  beauty  crowns  each  bending  branch, 
A  Christmas  diadem. 

No  faded  blossoms  drooping  hang, 
No  withered  twig  is  seen ; 

Love  set,  and  love  adorned,  the  tree,  — 
And  love  is  ever  green. 

And  every  little  leaflet  clings 

Closely  to  every  other. 
Like  nestling  bird  to  nestling  bird. 

Like  child  to  loving  mother. 

24 


370        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

Brought  from  the  field  where  once  it  grew,  — 

Ahve,  without  a  root ; 
'T  is  not  a  fruit  tree,  but  it  yields 

The  most  amazing  fruit. 

What  would  you  find  upon  the  tree  ? 

Cake,  candy,  book,  or  pistol  ? 
Perhaps  not  all,  but  love,  as  dear 

As  any  love  in  Bristol. 

Then  welcome  to  the  festal  hall ; 

Come  to  our  Christmas  tree  ; 
Come  where  the  branches  drop  their  gifts. 

Like  the  blest  gospel,  free. 

In  all  this  bright  and  pleasant  land 
Of  sunshine,  dew,  and  flowers. 

Has  sprung  to  life  no  Christmas  tree, 
More  fair  than  this  of  ours. 

Bristol,  E.  I.,  Christmas,  1870. 

SIBYLLINE   LEAVES. 

Read  at  a  dinner  of  the  Harvard  Class  of  1829. 

"AT  7"ILL  you  buy  my  leaves,  0  monarch  ? 

V  V     They  teem  with  wondrous  lore 
Of  things  ordained  to  happen, 

Casting  their  shades  before  ; 
The  precious  truths  are  written 

In  volumes  three  times  three ; 
Come,  monarch,  pay  the  sesterces 

And  take  the  books  from  me." 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL   OCCASIONS.  371 

"  Away  !  I  scorn  thee,  Sibyl," 

The  haughty  Tarquin  cried, 
"  Thou  hast  no  power  to  open 

What  God  hath  sworn  to  hide ; " 
The  Sibyl  took  her  volumes 

And  proudly  stalked  away ; 
"  Three  shall  be  burned,"  she  muttered, 

"  Six  shall  bring  equal  pay." 

The  curling  flames  blazed  brightly, 

Three  volumes  ceased  to  be ; 
"Now,  six,  0  haughty  Tarquin, 

Await  thy  high  decree  : 
Three  precious  tomes  have  perished, 

That  told  Rome's  coming  fate ; 
Say,  wilt  thou  take  the  six  I  hold. 

And  save  the  glorious  state  ? " 

Again  refused  the  monarch, — 

Three  volumes  burned  again, 
Like  dry  leaves  in  the  forest. 

Where  comes  no  dew  nor  rain. 
And  stood  again  the  Sibyl 

Before  proud  Tarquin's  door  ; 
"  Three  volumes  now  I  offer  thee, 

Their  worth,  —  nor  less,  nor  more." 

And  Home's  great  king  relented,  — 

"  'T  is  much,  0  hag,  to  pay. 
But  sesterces,  whate'er  you  wish, 

Sibyl,  are  yours  to-day  ; 
These  honored  leaves  shall  rule  the  state 

Saved  by  your  words  prophetic, 
From  Tliule  ultima  remote. 

To  empires  trans-Gangetic." 


372        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 

The  bark  we  launched  in  years  long  past 

On  the  world's  stormy  sea, 
Sailed  with  no  Sibyl  leaves  to  tell 

How  strange  its  fates  should  be. 
But  deeds  are  better  far  than  words,  — 

Acts,  than  prophetic  pen  ; 
Prouder  than  hopes  of  things  to  be, 

Are  high  deeds  that  have  been. 


No  Sibyl  in  mysterious  lore 

Things  secret  e'er  reveals. 
And  only  life,  with  solemn  pomp. 

The  book  of  Fate  unseals  ; 
Thou  saidst,  0  Sibyl,  volumes  three 

Filled  with  thy  lore  divine, 
Were  worth  as  many  sesterces 

As  were  the  volumes  nine. 


But  one  grand  life,  whose  noble  deeds 

File  by,  as  men  in  battle,  — 
Borne  strongly  to  its  glorious  end, 

Amid  the  world's  vain  rattle,  — 
Is  worth  a  thousand  promises 

Dreamed  by  a  brain  ascetic ; 
Our  glory  is  in  acts,  not  words,  — 

Deeds  done,  not  deeds  prophetic. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS.  373 


DORCAS.^ 

"  This  woman  was  full  of  good  works  and  almsdeeds  which  she  did." 
Acts  ix.  36. 

THE  coats  and  garments,  deftly  made 
By  Dorcas  for  the  poor, 
Excel  in  beauty  all  the  robes 
That  monarchs  ever  wore. 
These,  from  the  sphere  of  mortal  thmgs, 

Like  breaths  of  wind  have  passed  ; 
The  record  of  her  humble  work, 
Forevermore  will  last. 

The  gold  and  gems  of  royal  courts, 

Glittered  their  fleeting  day ; 
The  shining  jewels  men  admire, 

"Were  fair,  —  but  where  are  they  ? 
The  coats  and  garments  Dorcas  made 

To  bless  the  humble  poor, 
Are  treasured  with  the  holy  things 

Wliich  ever  shall  endure. 

For  when  the  Judge,  with  glory  crowned, 

Takes  His  immortal  throne. 
And  such  as  did  His  will  on  earth, 

His  loving  voice  shall  own, 
They,  in  the  sufferers  whom  they  helped, 

Their  Lord  Himself  shall  see,  — 
"  In  that  ye  did  it  unto  these. 

Ye  did  it  unto  me." 

1  My  sister's  eight j-ninth  birthday,  March  I",  1895. 

It  is  not  out  of  place  to  add,  for  example's  sake,  that  during  a  few 
months  previous  to  the  date  of  this  brotherly  tribute,  the  subject  of 
the  verses  sent  to  the  needy  poor  children  of  the  South,  more  tlian  two 
hundred  useful  articles,  all  of  which  were  her  own  handiwork.  —  Ed. 


374        MISCELLANEOUS  HYMNS  AND  ODES. 


OUE  YEAES   EOLL   OK 

A  "  Cakkier's  Address  "  written  January  1,  1832,  while  a  student 
at  Andover,  Mass.,  and  recalled  to  mind  by  the  poet,  with  a  loving 
confidence  that  when  years  on  earth  shall  end,  a  blessed  immortality 
lies  beyond. 

The  choice  of  this  poem,  written  shortly  before  the  hymn,  "  My 
Country,  't  is  of  thee,"  has  been  adopted,  with  the  poet's  approval,  as 
the  closing  selection  of  this  volume.  The  experience  of  a  long  life  has 
confirmed  his  early  estimate  of  duty,  as  "  Our  years  roll  on." 

OUB  years  roll  on  ;  and  fleeting  years  are  they, 
Brief  as  the  rainbow  on  the  dropping  spray 
Of  some  wild  waterfall,  that  foams  afar, 
Where  Nature's  rudest  rocks  and  forests  are. 
With  heaven's  bright  hues  the  falling  raindrops  burn  ; 
They  hurry  onward  ;  others,  in  their  turn, 
Shine  just  as  bright,  and  glow  as  soft  and  clear ; 
But  while  we  look,  their  beauties  disappear. 

Our  years  roll  on  ;  and  varied  years  are  they. 
Here  smile  the  buds  of  hope  ;  there  dwells  decay. 
Now  friends  are  here  ;  but  quickly  they  depart, 
And  death  unwinds  the  strings  that  bind  the  heart. 
Pleasure  and  pain  their  changing  courses  keep. 
Sure  as  our  waking  hours  succeed  to  sleep  ; 
From  wave  to  wave  we  mount,  till  changing  tires, 
And  life  —  the  close  of  changing  scenes  —  expires. 

Our  years  roll  on  ;  and  blessed  years  are  they. 
Cheered  with  the  righteous  Sun's  reviving  ray. 
The  streams  of  rich  salvation  round  us  flow, 
And  thousand  hearts  their  precious  virtue  know. 


VERSES  FOR  SPECIAL  OCCASIONS.  375 

Tidings  of  souls  renewed  and  sins  forgiven 
Come  floating  by,  on  every  wind  of  heaven ; 
The  sway  of  sin  begins  at  length  to  wane ; 
And  o'er  the  world  the  Saviour  conies  to  reign. 

Oii7'  I/ears  roll  on  ;  and  active  years  are  they. 
O'er  flowery  banks  we  may  not  take  our  way ; 
We  may  not  linger  where  soft  numbers  swell, 
Nor  over-love  the  things  we  love  so  well. 
'T  is  ours  to  work  for  God  ;  't  is  ours  to  go 
Through  earth's  wide  field,  the  precious  seed  to  sow. 
We  may  not  rest  till  life's  bright  years  decline ; 
Then,  like  the  sun  in  heaven,  our  names  shall  shine. 

Our  years  roll  on  ;  our  years  must  pass  away. 
Our  youth's  companions,  tell  us,  where  are  they  ? 
And  where  are  thousands  whom  we  knew  before,  — 
Thousands,  whose  faces  we  shall  see  no  more  ? 
Among  the  dead  their  dwelling  is  to-day. 
Hear  we  their  voice,  "  Ye  living,  watch  and  pray  1 " 
Hear  and  obey ;  then  we  no  scene  may  fear ; 
But  each  revolving  sun  shall  bring  a  happy  year. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Pasi 

A  bright  drop  on  the  rose-leaf  rests 192 

A  fairy  girl  with  wavy  curls 26 

A  hundred  years,  —  how  vast  the  sweep 314 

All  nature  sings  wildly  the  song  of  the  free 317 

All  one  in  Christ,  though  plains  and  hills  dividing 257 

All  that  is  pleasant  to  the  eye 254 

All  tlie  week  we  spend 205 

<' A  little  uppish, "  —  Well  it  is 355 

And  now  the  solemn  deed  is  done 21'4 

And  so  we  hide  our  dead  in  solemn  shade 1^9 

Another  bantling!  lo  he  comes 7 

Another, — yes,  another ^04 

Arouse  up,  ye  sleepers,  the  morning  has  come 330 

Arouse  ye,  arouse  ye,  O  servants  of  God 288 

As  blushing  tints  still  mantle  o'er  the  shell '^^ 

Ascended  dearly  loved,  in  life's  young  bud 33 

A  score  of  years,  —  as  spring  matures 28 

As  fades  the  light  of  closing  day 1^8 

As  flows  the  rapid  river 294 

As  I  sat  on  "the  Fourth,"  in  the  land  of  the  free 125 

A  song  of  the  Highland  Guards l"-t 

A  star  shines  in  the  heavens  .     .          318 

As  summer  clouds,  in  richness  sleeping 295 

As  whitening  fields  of  precious  grain 212 

At  first,  a  sickly  babe,  with  angel  face 6 

Auspicious  morning,  hail 140 

Aye,  "  Close  the  doors,  and  nail  them  fast " 366 

Backward  to-day  my  sunny  thoughts 11 

Behold,  dear  wife,  how  things  have  changed 17 

Beyond  where  Cedron's  waters  flow 240 

Blest  are  these  years  of  wedded  love 53 

Blest  be  the  ancient  men  whose  feet 242 

Blest  be  the  bonds  of  Christian  love 267 

Blest  be  the  day  of  rest 204 

Blest  be  the  holy  bands 266 

Blest  is  the  hour  when  cares  depart 216 

Blest  be  the  sacred  tie  that  binds 261 

Blest  word  of  God,  our  help,  our  stay 199 

Bliss  is  hovering,  smiling,  everywhere 328 

Breathe  balmy  airs,  ye  fragrant  flowers 163 

Breaths  from  the  upper  world,  Eden  revived 318 

Broken  and  bruised,  from  fields  of  strife 171 


378  INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Paok 

Brother  and  friend,  with  joy  we  meet 58 

Brought  home  where  the  dust  of  her  kindred  reposes 74 

Built  on  the  Rock  of  Ages,  Lord 235 

By  the  couch  of  the  saint  there  are  loved  ones  to  weep 298 

Children  of  Freedom's  land 189 

Child  of  my  warm  affection 19 

Christian,  awake !  let  thy  soul  swell  with  gladness 300 

Come  back  to  be  buried  beneath  the  green  willow 106 

Come,  children,  and  now,  to  the  garden  we  '11  go 332 

Come,  God  the  Father,  for  our  hands  have  reared 227 

Come,  O  divine  Shekinah,  come 226 

Come  to  our  waiting  hearts  and  homes 213 

Come  to  the  festal  day 86 

Cumbered  with  earthly  care 195 

Daily  the  hum  of  eve  returns 201 

Dear  is  each  well  remembered  face 231 

Dear  master  of  the  tuneful  lyre 109 

Deep,  mid  these  dim  and  silent  shades 124 

Did  I  hear  you  say,  " 'tis  eighty" 56 

Drawn  from  a  thousand  distant  homes 208 

Drawn  to  this  blest  retreat 95 

Earth  waits  Thy  advent,  Prince  of  Peace 277 

Evening  winds  are  breathing 343 

Fair  flowers  that  bloom  so  richly 319 

Fair  seat  of  learning!  who  shall  tell 91 

Fair  Suffield,  thy  children  return  to  thy  halls 93 

Fair  Worcester,  enthroned  on  the  hills  in  thy  pride 92 

Far  from  earth  retreating 250 

Far  from  the  dear  delights  of  friends  and  home 207 

Far  o'er  the  distant  mountain  ridge 221 

Far  o'er  the  land  the  precious  grain 211 

Fifty  full  years, — how  fair  and  grand  the  record 54 

Fling  out  the  banner  on  the  breeze 154 

Forth  from  the  sheltering  wing  of  home 10 

For  our  life,  so  young  and  pleasing 331 

From  dear  New  England's  happy  shore 273 

From  the  villages  retiring 239 

Glorious  days  shall  be  to  Zion 305 

God  of  all  grace,  supreme,  alone 236 

God  of  the  mountains  and  the  sea 228 

God  of  the  ocean  and  the  shore 269 

God  of  the  starry  worlds  above 225 

Go,  heralds  of  Salvation,  forth 270 

Go?  —  when  the  precious  promise  stands  ? 249 

Go  with  Thy  servant,  mighty  Lord 272 

Go  j'e,  and  read  at  length  the  mystic  lore 326 

Gone,  but  not  lost!  the  star  of  day 103 

Good  morning,  Ma'am,  I  come  to  bring 133 

Grateful,  the  pious  feast  we  keep ^^'^ 

Great  is  the  work,  but  Thine,  0  God,  the  power 217 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES.  379 

Paoi 

Hail,  friend  and  brother,  on  this  bright  birthday 51 

Hail,  honored  master!  Hail,  thrice-honored  friend 101 

Hail  pastor!  with  thy  honored  brow 222 

Hang  out  the  lantern  1     Let  oppression  quail 137 

Hark!  music  wakes 141 

Haste  to  the  conquest  of  the  world 280 

Heroic  statesman,  hail 180 

Honored  and  loved,  the  patriot  and  the  sage 147 

Honored  by  all,  where'er  thy  nanie  is  heard 50 

How  blest  are  they,  in  Christ,  who  die 296 

How  blest  the  art  that  links  in  sacred  bunds 83 

How  blest  the  Sabbath  mornini;  breaks 202 

How  brightly  shone  heaven's  hoi}-  light 143 

How  calm  and  peaceful  is  the  grave 299 

How  pure  in  zeal,  how  tirm  in  faith 145 

How  sweet 't  is  to  play 327 

How  sweet  the  evening  shadows  fall 200 

Humble  is  my  little  cottage 327 

I  am  a  little  weaver,  and  pleasant  are  my  days 337 

I  had  a  jewel,  passing  rich 34 

I  have  read  of  a  poet  whose  minstrels^' woke 82 

In  all  this  bright  and  pleasant  land 309 

In  faith  this  corner-stone  we  lay 83 

In  loving  faith  this  stone  we  place 87 

In  marts  of  wealth,  in  gilded  halls 224 

In  nursery,  college,  work,  fashion  and  art 126 

In  the  cool  and  leafy  grove 335 

In  the  thick  and  grassy  wood 322 

In  thousand  shaded  valleys 170 

I  see  the  blessed  angels  there 36 

I  suppose  I 'm  the  aim  of  your  eloquent  battery 120 

Is  thy  final  rest  more  peaceful  ? "2 

It  is  coming,  it  is  coming 158 

I  've  known  and  loved  her  many  a  year 30 

Joy  !  —  for  the  precious  seed  that  springs 368 

Joy  for  the  sturdy  trees 324 

Kind  the  Spring  appears 333 

Land  of  the  freemen  and  home  of  the  brave 144 

Launched  safely  on  life's  sunny  main 14 

Lend  your  ears,  gentle  friends,  throw  your  business  aside 357 

Life  in  these  modern  days  strange  freaks  assumes 356 

Light  o'er  the  darkened  hills 309 

Light  o'er  the  hills 275 

Like  a  swift  racer,  clear  the  lines 44 

Little  vale,  with  fairy  meadows 340 

Living,  she  loved  the  house  of  prayer 66 

'Mid  the  tempest  and  the  strife 99 

Morn  of  Zion's  glory 304 

Mute  is  his  eloquence;  that  silver  tongue 107 

My  Country,  't  is  of  thee 77 


380  INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Pagb 

No  sorrow,  like  a  sweeping  storm 292 

Not  costly  domes,  not  marble  towers 185 

Not  gifts  of  gold,  or  costly  gems 22 

Not  yet  complete,  the  hall  we  rear 89 

Not  yet  the  frost  of  age 97 

Now  gloomy  night  is  gone 190 

0  blessed  Word  of  God,  thy  living  ray 284 

O  Rock  of  Ages,  when  the  storm 291 

O  Thou,  whose  glory  fills  the  sky 215 

O  Thou,  whose  voice  the  tempest  stilled 285 

Oh,  blest  are  they,  to  whom  't  is  given 217 

Oh,  labor  in  darkness  and  labor  by  day Ill 

Oh,  mourn  not,  fond  mother,  the  joys  that  depart 71 

Oh,  no,  my  friend,  you  blunder  there 20 

Oh  no,  they  shall  not  be  forgot 1 

Oh,  not  my  own  these  verdant  hills 253 

Oh,  praise  ye  Jehovah,  His  glory  proclaim 236 

Oh,  see  how  bright  and  sweetly  shines 339 

Oh,  sing  to  the  praise  of  the  Saviour  above 261 

Oh,  weep  not,  ye  whose  child  hath  won 70 

Old  Time  rolls  b}',  but  gently  breathes    .     .     .     .     • 146 

On  northern  hills  where  bleak  winds  blow 157 

Once,  on  a  bright  and  happy  night 40 

Onward,  0  Christian  warriors 209 

Onward  speed  thy  conquering  flight 271 

Our  babe,  escaping  from  life's  woes 7 

Our  joyous  hearts,  to-day 184 

Our  years  roll  on 374 

Pain  shall  not  enter  there.     No  thought  of  woe 300 

Passed  from  our  sight,  but  grandly  living  still 63 

Passing  on,  passing  up,  to  the  platform  of  life 251 

Perfect  in  Christ,  our  spirits  yearn  to  be 196 

Planted  in  Christ,  the  living  vine 259 

Pleasant  is  the  day  of  rest 203 

Praise  to  the  brave  and  true 138 

Eedeemed  from  death !  redeemed  from  sin 315 

Eemember  thy  Creator 194 

Rouse  to  defend  the  land  ye  love 151 

Sacred,  0  God,  to  thee 123 

Sacred  the  ground  we  tread 65 

Sad,  but  yet  glad,  our  thoughts  recall 178 

See,  the  rain  is  falling 330 

Shine  on,  "Lone  Star!  "  thy  radiance  bright 281 

Shepherd  and  Heavenly  Friend 59 

Short  was  thy  pilgrimage,  dear  child 75 

Silent  vale,  where  love  and  pleasure 341 

Sing,  Muse  of  history,  sing  the  deathless  fame 363 

Sister,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely 76 

Sixty  benignant  years 22 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep 3 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES.  381 

Paob 

So!  be  a  man,  and  gird  thy  soul 13 

Softly  fades  the  twilight  ray 206 

Softly,  their  labors  doue,  —  the  patriots  rest IG-i 

So!  leap  the  limit  now  that  parts 9 

Some  nice  tliinjjs,  you  think,  can  be  done  without  toil 79 

So  swiftly  the  years  on  their  axles  have  rolled 23 

So  the  fair  structure  stands 119 

Sow  ye  beside  all  waters 90 

Speed  on  thy  victory,  mighty  King 312 

Spring,  with  its  bright  and  cheerful  hours 12 

Strengthened  and  trained  by  toil  and  tears 183 

Strew  the  fair  garlands  where  slumber  the  dead 102 

Sweet  in  the  innocence  of  youth ICl 

Sweet  wanderer  o'er  the  sea 323 

Sweep  on,  O  car  of  light 230 

Swiftly  the  years  roll  on ;  so  swiftly  conies 28G 

Take  from  our  hands,  0  faithful  earth 1G7 

Take  these  choice  treasures,  gentle  earth 172 

The  clouds  of  affliction  and  pain 246 

The  coats  and  garments,  deftly  made 373 

The  friendships  we  formed 43 

The  gloomy  night  is  fleeing  fast 342 

The  God  of  battles  praise 173 

The  joys  of  earth  are  fleeting 193 

The  Lord  is  risen,  and  angels  wait 241 

The  man  who  dwells  beneath  Thy  shade,  Most  High 265 

The  morning  light  is  breaking 306 

The  Muses,  in  the  olden  days 84 

The  Prince  of  Salvation  in  triumph  is  riding 313 

There  bloom  three  young  flowers,  so  sweet  and  fair 334 

There  's  rest  for  thee 256 

There  stood  upon  a  river's  bank 197 

The  seal,  once  laid  on  pliant  wax 79 

The  ship  floats  bravely  on  the  sea 278 

The  small  life  coiled  within  the  seed 149 

The  Spring  is  come  I  and  vales  and  mountains 331 

The  summer  evening,  bright  wreaths  is  weaving 344 

The  voice  of  joyful  ones  I  hear 260 

The  winter  winds  are  gone 337 

The  zeph^Ts  are  hushed,  and  the  storm  winds  are  blowing    I .     .     .    .  345 

They  came  from  many  a  happy  home 176 

They  fought  on  many  a  crimsoned  field 168 

They  gathered  from  the  south  and  north 152 

They  left  old  England's  cultured  homes 132 

This  is  my  home,  —  my  fair  bright  home 39 

Thou  precious  pleiige  of  love 2 

Thou,  whose  heart  with  pain  is  broken 289 

Tiiree-score  and  ten,  the  blushing  spring 25 

Three-score  and  ten,  the  crimson  sunlight  waning 46 

Through  the  grassy  fields  to  run 329 

Thus  comes  another;  may  she  stand 4 

Thy  kingdom  come,  immortal  King 276 

Thj'  way,  O  God,  is  best 252 


382  INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Page 

'T  is  but  a  step  to  yon  bright  world 245 

'T  is  fifty  years,  God  bless  her 15 

'T  is  fitting  thus  to  honor  the  man  of  three-score  years  and  ten    ...  47 

'T  is  mine  to  wield  the  sickle 218 

'T  is  the  question  of  the  day 116 

'T  is  well  to  celebrate  the  (lays 32 

To  feel  the  mild,  delicious  clime 297 

To  Him  who  dwells  above,  all  grace  possessing 198 

Toilers  from  many  a  distant  field 94 

Trarah!  Trarahl 336 

'T  was  an  eventful  day  that  made  thee  feel 6 

'T  was  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus 237 

'T  was  God  who  heard  when  hope  was  dying 243 

'Twas  planted  while  the  wintry  winds 130 

Two  gardens,  flourishing  and  bright 37 

Up,  ye  nations,  raise  songs  of  grateful  praise 308 

Up !  ye  saints,  and  raise 262 

Wave  the  new  flag,  exultant,  o'er  the  land 156 

"Weary  and  wan,  his  furrows  long 282 

We  are  all  like  blind  men,  groping  in  the  dark 69 

We  build  on  Christ,  our  Corner-stone 220 

We  emulate  the  path  thy  feet  have  trod 61 

Welcome,  the  opening  buds  of  Spring 320 

We  reap,  to-day,  the  glorious  fruit 268 

Westward,  brave  seaman,  sail 129 

We  wander  far  o'er  land  and  sea 186 

We  wreathe  with  flowers  the  peaceful  graves 164 

What  is  true  greatness,  —  where,  and  whence  ? Ill 

What  peace  is  this  that  springs  within  my  mind  ? 264 

What  then,  is  eloquence  V     No  mere  parade 361 

What  waves  of  music  roll 311 

What  were  this  globe,  with  mountain,  plain,  and  wood  ? 346 

When  autumn  blasts  sweep  o'er  the  fields 96 

When  God  is  near 255 

When  shall  we  meet  again,  meet  ne'er  to  sever  ? 301 

When  the  scarred  hero  from  the  field 279 

Where  are  the  ancient  men  who  reared 243 

Where  are  the  boys  of  earlier  days  V 81 

While  all  creation  sings  for  joy 194 

While  centuries  pass  with  solemn  tread 229 

Who  is  the  truly  good  and  great  ? 353 

Who  shall  not  love  the  weak  and  j'oung  ? 191 

Will  you  buy  my  leaves,  0  monarch  ? 370 

With  crowds  around,  upbraiding 290 

With  willing  hearts  we  tread 258 

Yes,  a  "  side-issue,"  so  you  say 348 

Yes,  "  fell  asleep,"  —  but  sleep  implies  two  wakings 67 

Yes,  my  native  land,  I  love  thee 274 

Your  thousand  voices  raise 303 

You  sweet  little  cricket 321 

Youths  of  few  summers,  —  boys,  still  dolts  at  school 354 


u^TM 


